


Wait, What Did I Just Say?

by Jen27ny



Series: Was that a Star Wars reference, Dr. Stark? [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Gen, Irondad, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-05-02 07:03:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19194058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jen27ny/pseuds/Jen27ny
Summary: Peter was getting used to the fact that Tony was his father. The most difficult part: not calling him Mr. Stark anymore. So what should he call him instead?





	1. Karen

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!
> 
> This is the sequel to Happy Hogan Never Forgets A Face, and I do recommend to actually read that story before you read this one. I'm not quite sure if this makes much sense without it. 
> 
> Do you know that moment when you just talk and talk, and suddenly someone is like: that makes no sense, what are you talking about? And it turns out you said something else without realizing it? That feeling is the main inspiration for this fic. Also, this is also a little bit of a stepping stone for the next fic in this series, so there is quite a bit of foreshadowing in it. 
> 
> As always: English is not my first language, but I do try my best. This is not beta'd. I still do not know where to put any commas or if it's Mr/Mr. or Dr/Dr. Someone please help me. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“ – and then I turned around, and suddenly MJ was standing there and just said _what’s up, loser_ and I literally died.”

“ _It sounds like you had a very enjoyable day, Peter._ ”

“What? No! Karen, didn’t you listen? I _died_!”

“ _That is incorrect. You are very much alive, Peter. Would you like me to show you your vitals?”_ Before Peter could even answer, his heartbeat as well as several other statistics popped up on his interface. He thought about pointing out that it was actually a bit dangerous to block his view while he was mid swing, several hundred feet in the air. Not that it really mattered. He could swing around Queens with his eyes closed and wouldn’t crash. Not that he had, like, tried it or something. That would be so irresponsible and dangerous. Totally nothing Peter would ever do.

“It’s a figure of speech,” he said, swiping the stats out of the way, and landing on a roof top. “Anyway, do you have anything for me?”

_“My scans do not register any crimes at the moment.”_

“What? Nothing?”

_“Nothing.”_

“Huh … I guess even criminals need a break, right?”

_“Or maybe they do not want to anger Spider-Man.”_

“Karen, I appreciate your faith in me, but we both know that’s not the reason.”  Peter slumped down on the edge of the building, his feet lightly kicking the brick wall. “So, I guess I’ll just wait then? Or is there anyone else who needs my help? Some kitten in a tree or a nice, old lady with too many groceries to carry?”

_“I am sorry, but I fear there is nothing that requires attention right now.”_

“That’s cool,” Peter sighed, and looked over Queens. The sun was low, not quite setting but getting there. A warm, golden light fell over the buildings and streets, creating almost-long shadows. Maybe it was the mood or the fact that nobody seemed to need the spider-themed vigilante in this moment, but everything seemed so peaceful. Which was rare for a city as big and lively as New York. “It’s a nice view.”

_“It is very picturesque.”_

For a second, he was silently watching the sky. “Hey, Karen, you don’t happen to have a photography feature or something like that, do you? Not the Baby Monitor, but a proper camera to take photos.”

“ _No, I do not_ ,” Karen answered and maybe Peter was imagining it – at this point, he’s gotten so attached to his AI that he sometimes forgot that he wasn’t talking to an actual person; also the thought that one of his closest friends was a robot was still awesome, but a bit depressing, too – but she sounded like she was sorry. “ _Would you like me to add it to the list for upgrade ideas_?”

He tilted his head to the side. “You have a list for that?”

_“Of course. Tony installed it for you to write down your ideas before you can forget them.”_

Peter hummed, not knowing how to answer while the now somewhat familiar, squirming feeling returned to his stomach. It’s been a bit over two weeks since his weekend at the compound. The thought of Tony Stark being his real father was still as overwhelming as it’d been the first time around, but he supposed that it was normal to need some time to get used to it.

After their emotional talk, Tony and Peter hadn’t been able to go back to sleep. There’d been the strange urge to talk and just spend time together that had pushed all the tiredness out of their bones. So, they’d reheated the leftover lasagna, and kept talking about everything that had happened in the last two weeks. Peter had retold all of his patrolling adventures – which had lasted at least an hour – and what’d happened at school, proudly announcing the A he’d gotten in his Physics exam.

On the other hand, Tony’d updated him on the process of turning the Tower into the SI’s figurehead. Due to the Vulture, Tony had stopped the selling process of the Tower. First because of security and investigative reasons, then because he actually liked the building. Besides having Tony and Pepper’s penthouse and his personal labs, the Tower was turning into some kind of Stark Industry visitor center. There would be a large exhibition about SI’s history, as well as a section about Iron Man and the Avengers, and a few R&D labs that curious visitors could take a look at and maybe play around with a few – hazard-free– inventions. Of course, the mass production plus the really interesting labs would still be somewhere outside the city and not open for any visitors. Most of all the offices would be placed there, too. Peter had even helped to outline a program for schools, so kids of all ages had the opportunity to go there and learn about science, technology, and clean energy. Pepper had been really excited about his ideas, claiming he was already doing more for good publicity than Tony’d done in the past ten years.

The whole process was absolutely arduous, even for people like Tony Stark and Pepper Potts who dealt with something like this on a regular basis, but Peter was still happy that he’d kept the Tower. It was such an iconic building, and – if Peter was completely honest with himself – it also meant that Tony was closer. The drive to the compound was long, but Peter could be at the Tower in a matter of minutes if he used his web shooters.

By the time the sun’d come up, they were still talking and Rhodey, who’d woken up for his morning exercises, had ushered them to bed, complaining that neither of them knew anything about healthy sleeping or heating habits. Not that he was wrong. The rest of the weekend had happened as if the two week long radio silence between the two geniuses had never happened. They’d spent absolutely ridiculous hours in the lab, working on whatever popped up in their heads, eating too much unhealthy food – with some occasional healthy food thrown in, because Rhodey had taken over the someone-needs-to-make-sure-these-smart-idiots-don’t-die-because-of-their-unhealthy-habits-job, which was usually equally distributed between Pepper, Happy, May, and the Colonel; Tony and Peter had been made aware that there was a group chat as well – watching movies while talking about all the plot holes, playing Mario Kart, and being forced to go to sleep. Sunday evening, Tony had hugged him before Happy had driven him back to Queens.

Everything was like it had always been, and it continued to be like that. He and Tony spoke daily, if not face-to-face or via FaceTime or a phone call, they texted each other. Peter went to the Tower for his internship a few times a week. Tony had stopped by twice, once for Taco Night, and the other time for seemingly no reason other than that _he was in the area_ and ultimately helped Peter with his homework. They still laughed about the same kind of jokes, there was still way too much sass, and Tony was still one of the persons Peter felt most comfortable with. Everything was normal. Nothing had changed.

Which was exactly what bothered him.

Because something _had_ changed. Tony was his father! They were related! And yet they talked about everything – _everything_ – but that. Whenever they talked, they stayed clear of any topics that had anything to do with family. Words like father, son, and related were practically banned. They hadn’t discussed what would happen. Peter wasn’t blaming Tony. After all he himself didn’t ask the questions and just kept silent.

But he had _so_ many. Were they going to tell anybody? And by _anybody_ , he was talking about the press. If they did, what would happen? Would he have to change schools? Would he have to move into the Tower? Would he be expected to take over SI someday? Would he have to hold press conferences? Would he have to change his name to Stark? Was he going to have a bodyguard with him all the time? If he did, was it going to be Happy or someone that Peter didn’t know? What about Spider-Man? Would he still be able to help Queens if the eyes of the world were on Peter Parker/maybe-Stark? Would he be forced to sign the still adapting Accords before he turned eighteen?

All these questions were running through his mind, but he never said them out loud. Peter wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe he was scared of the answers – no, scratch that. He was definitely scared of the answers. He was barely able to give a presentation in front of his class without stuttering. How the hell was he suppose to handle a press conference or the CEO of Stark Industries? What was the job of a CEO, anyway? Peter had no idea! All Pepper did was taking part in meetings, holding press conferences and keeping Tony in check – which in itself was already a full-time job, if her rants were any indication. Besides, Tony seemed happy with their current situation. If he was happy, shouldn’t Peter be happy, too?

Everything was fine. Nothing had changed.

Well, not _nothing_. The only thing – the single, exclusively, one thing – that changed was what Peter called his father. Since it was now officially weird for him to call him Mr. Stark, he tried to get used to calling him Tony. Which was going somewhat well. There were still a few hiccups. FRIDAY was keeping a list of every time he said Mr. Stark, and his current score was twelve. Out of fear of a slip-up or to upset Tony, Peter mostly avoided calling him by any name. He asked Karen to refer to his father as Tony as well, hoping it would help him.

“ _Would you like me to add a photography feature to your update list_?” Karen asked again, and pulled him out of his own thoughts.

“No, it’s cool. I just thought it would be a nice moment to capture, y’know?” Peter kept his eyes on the sun, which was only possible because the suit dimmed some of the brightness. Otherwise, his sensitive eyes would have been blinded. The nervous, unsure feeling that now always settled inside him whenever he thought about Tony being his father was still there, so he tried to ignore it. By rambling. “It’s just that I was really into photography a few years back. Did I ever tell you that?”

_“No, Peter, you did not.”_

“Well, I got into it when I was about ten or eleven, I think. Ben let me fool around with his camera, and it was just a lot of fun for me. I wasn’t terrible – well, I was terrible at first, like, all blurry and weird perspectives and stuff. But I got better.” He remembered his first attempts. The dark and unrecognizable shapes, the wrong lighting, and always taking the photo either a few moments too early or too late. Peter also remembered the moments he would take a photo without someone noticing it, getting their unguarded expressions. Taking a picture and having others see the view they saw on a daily basis in a new light. “I really liked it, you know? Catching little moments, capturing memories and emotions. Just … the feeling when you look at old photos and are immediately transported back to that moment.”

_“You sound very passionate about this. Why did you stop?”_

He shrugged, even though he knew that Karen couldn’t see it. Or could she? Maybe she had some kind of motion detectors? Was that a thing? Could she actually see his shrugs? “Well, when you get bitten by a radioactive spider and develop superpowers, you kinda forget about it. Then Ben died and I just …” The lump that always took place in his throat when he was talking about his uncle returned. “I started out with his camera, and he also bought me my own. It was already used, but it worked just fine. Every time I picked it up, I would start thinking about him. Besides, I was just starting Spider-Man. It, like, faded in the background.”

_“I am sure Tony would be happy to install the necessary codes for a photography feature. Should I send him a note?”_

“No, Karen, it’s fine. Plus, Spider-Man is suppose to help people, not take pictures. I’m pretty sure Tony wouldn’t be happy if I screw up because I took a picture.” There wasn’t an immediate response from Karen, which was unusual. Normally, she was always quick to answer him. But there was nothing. Not even some kind of affirmation that it would indeed be dangerous to take pictures while fighting crime. Peter waited for another couple of seconds, his feet still kicking against the building. The sun was getting lower. “Hey, are you still there?” Maybe there was a bug or something? Could his suit even malfunction? What if it malfunctioned mid swing? The thought was a bit – read: a lot –terrifying. Yes, he had an enhanced healing factor, but not enhanced enough to make him survive a several hundred feet fall, crashing down on concrete.

 _“I’m still here,”_ Karen finally answered, and Peter let go a breath he didn’t know he was holding. _“I was just searching my database.”_

“Really?” Peter asked curiously. “What for?” It was very rare that the AI was researching anything without Peter prompting her to do so.

_“Information about Richard Parker.”_

Now that really got his attention. He sat up straight, his feet stopped kicking the bricks. “What? Why would you do that?”

_“Because you were mentioning him and I could not identify his relevance to our conversation.”_

“No, I wasn’t. I was talking about Tony.”

_“Based on my research, I came to the same conclusion.”_

“Then why would you think I was talking about Richard?”

 _“Because I was not aware that you no longer refer to him when you say_ Dad _, but to Tony.”_

Her words almost made Peter’s heart stop. What? “What are you talking about? I don’t call Tony Dad.”

_“You just did.”_

“No, I didn’t.” He was one hundred per cent sure that he said Tony, because he was trying so hard to not call him Mr. Stark anymore. After all, the words came out of _his_ mouth. He had complete control over them.

Right?

Apparently not.

Instead of Karen’s voice, he heard his own. _“No, Karen, it’s fine. Plus, Spider-Man is suppose to help people, not take pictures. I’m pretty sure Dad wouldn’t be happy if I screw up because I took a picture.”_

Peter couldn’t say anything. He hadn’t said that. That wasn’t him. He was completely sure that he said Tony. “You’re joking.”

_“I do not joke.”_

“B-But you have to! Did you manipulate the recording? Is this a prank? Did Ned hack you?”

_“I did not manipulate the recording. It is not a prank. Ned did not hack into my system.”_

There were words on the tip of his tongue, but they wouldn’t come out of his mouth. He was absolutely sure that he’d said Tony, but why would Karen lie? Was this some attempt to make him come to terms with their new relationship? Or did Tony install a new protocol? It had to be something like that. Peter barely managed to call him by his name. How the hell should he ever be able to call him _Dad_?

Besides, he’d always called Richard Dad, even after he moved in with Ben and May. Richard was Dad and Mary was Mom. Not once, not _ever_ , had he called anyone else Dad or Mom, not a teacher, not Ben, not May, not Ned’s parents. Those two words had always been tied to them, no matter if they were dead or alive.

So it had to be fake. It just had to be. There was no way that he called Tony – _Iron Man_ – Dad. That would be so embarrassing. And absolutely impossible.

 _“Peter, are you alright? Your heart rate is quite high.”_ Once again, his vitals popped up in front of his eyes, and, yes, his heart rate was in fact above normal readings. Probably because he had a minor panic attack because he said Dad without realizing it.

“I’m fine,” he choked out, and swiped the interface clean. “I’m good. Totally fine. Hey, uh, is Mr. Sta- I mean _Tony_ , yeah, definitely Tony, still watching everything from the Baby Monitor?”

_“Only if there is a reason for him to suspect that your reports were not truthful. Would you like me to send a note for him to take a look at the footage tonight?”_

“No!” Out of desperation and panic, Peter jumped to his feet. Luckily for him, his feet were sticky and clung to the edge. Otherwise, he would’ve lost his balance, and he was pretty sure that he was too distracted right now to properly use his web shooters. “No, no, don’t tell him, okay?”

_“As you wish, Peter.”_

Given that Karen would presumably show him his vitals again if he couldn’t calm down his racing heart, Peter took a few deep breaths. He had to think logical about this. The most important thing was to keep this from Tony. Because if he found out … then …

Actually, the boy had no idea what would happen then. Yeah, sure, Tony had always asked him to stop calling him Mr. Stark, saying it reminded him too much of his own father and was too formal, but there was a gigantic difference between Tony and Dad. What if he hated it? After all, he’d told Peter that the fact that he was a father had been a bitter pill to swallow. Maybe that was the reason why they hadn’t really talked about anything. Maybe Tony had accepted that he was a father, but didn’t actually want anything to change. Maybe he was just trying to make the best out of a bad situation.

 _No_ , a small voice in his head argued, _he told you he wants to be your dad. He told you he’s trying to be better._

What if he just feels obligated to do it?

 _He wants you in his life. You_ know _that. Tony wouldn’t have reached out if he doesn’t want you._

Peter shook his head, trying to get the voice and his insecurities to stop. That was also slightly new. At least the voice was new, because his insecurities had always been there, whispering lies and other things in his ear, screwing with his perspective, always making him think that everything was his fault or that he was the problem. It was actually kind of nice to finally have something that fought against all those toxic thoughts, even though he would sound like a crazy person if he told anyone.  “Is there any way we can delete some footage? Like, let’s say the last five minutes?”

_“I am afraid you do not have the authority to delete any data from the Baby Monitor. Tony suspects that you will delete it every time you get hurt.”_

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Damn Tony. He knew him too well.

_“Peter, I just detected a robbery not too far from here.”_

“Perfect,” Peter sighed. He’d never been this relieved that someone was making his neighborhood unsafe. But it was exactly the kind of distraction he needed. “I mean, obviously it’s not perfect that someone is committing a crime. Anyway, can you find me the fastest route?”

 _“Of course.”_ Little dots appeared on his screen, twisting through the streets.

“You’re the best, Karen!” he thanked his AI, and jumped from the building, shooting a web and swinging through the air. By the time Peter had finished his patrol – one robbery, one bike thief, three old ladies he helped to cross the street, and two siblings who had lost sight of their parents – he’d forgotten about his little slip of tongue.


	2. Ned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your support and all your comments!
> 
> The hardest part was thinking about names for Peter's classmates. I'm bad with names. I changed them twice, which is ridiculous, because I only needed to come up with two names. Also, there's some foreshadowing in this chapter. Maybe you can spot it. It's (not) very subtle. 
> 
> As usual: It's not beta'd. I'm not a native English speaker. I don't know where to put commas. I know nothing about anything except cake.
> 
> Enjoy!

“ _– today, my good friend, your gym teacher, will be conducting the Captain America Fitness Challenge._ ” There was a collective groan from every student in the gym. Peter didn’t join in. Instead, he furrowed his brows together, looking down at his knees.

“Again?” Leah complained, and she wasn’t alone. “We’re doing this challenge at least once a month!”

“Yeah, it’s not a challenge anymore if you do it all the time,” Noah agreed.

“Guys, I’m just doing whatever we have to do, okay?” Coach Wilson said, but he wasn’t very convincing. “It’s in the curriculum.”

“Are you sure that it’s not because you’re too lazy to think about new exercises, and too old to demonstrate them? Instead you just play a state-approved video with exercises we’re all more than familiar with to safe yourself some time?”

Coach Wilson sighed, probably realizing that he wasn’t getting payed enough. “No, Miss Jones, that’s not the reason.”

MJ squinted in a very MJ-way. “Sure. Whatever.”

“Now, c’mon guys, we don’t have forever,” the coach said, loudly clapping his hands, and trying his best to motivate the teenagers. It wasn’t really working, but they all shuffled down the bleachers anyway.

“I don’t get it,” Peter whispered to Ned, while they stayed at the back of the crowd, climbing down the stairs. “Why are we still doing this?”

“Dude, it’s High School. I’m pretty sure it’s their job to make us miserable.”

“No, I mean this stupid challenge.” He waved around the gym, pointing to the mats on the grounds, the bars, and the ropes.

“Honestly, I think it’s just like MJ said and - “

“Not that, Ned. Why are we still doing something that _Captain America_ tells us to do?” Peter really tried to keep his voice even and to not get upset, but it wasn’t working. The anger and hurt inside his chest were bubbling their way up. He barely noticed his friend’s confused stare. “And even if they want to show us stupid videos, why don’t they show us someone who actually steps up for our country? Like Colonel Rhodes! War Machine is an Avenger as well, and he’s a _real_ Colonel. He earned his title, unlike Rogers who isn’t even a real Captain. It’s just … a nickname or something.”

“Peter, what –“

Peter didn’t let him finished. “Why did they choose him in the first place, anyway? Who looked at him and thought: _You know what? He’s a good role model, and should teach young minds about following the rule, and the importance of math, and a good lunch!_ But, like, all he ever does is break the rules! He’s the last person I would pick for something like this. He’s a war criminal! And he –”

“Dude,” Ned interrupted, and had to actually put his hand against his chest to stop his rant, “what the actual _fuck_?” Ned wasn’t one to swear, and, yes, he’d whispered the word so softly that even Peter had trouble to pick it up, but he’d sworn none the less. His eyes were wide, his mouth open and for a second, he didn’t know what to say. Peter was just staring back, clenching his fists. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled, and tried to get past his friend to the mats, but Ned wouldn’t let him.

“ _Nothing_? That wasn’t nothing. You were totally bashing Captain America just now.”

“He’s not a Captain,” Peter snapped back. Ned blinked at him, clearly not understanding what was bothering his best friend, and he felt guilty instantly. Ned didn’t deserve this. With an apologetic shrug, he said: “I’m just … fed up with how everyone thinks he’s this perfect guy.”

“No, I’ve seen you when you’re fed up with something. I remember your rant about Revenge of the Sith. But this? This is nothing like those times.” At this point, Peter had to look away because he felt like he would _literally_ explode if he didn’t. “Seriously, what’s going on? You’ve been weird all day long and –“

“Parker! Leeds!” They both whipped their heads around to their teacher, who didn’t really look angry but more exhausted, like he just couldn’t deal with kids today. “In this class, you’re graded for the exercises you do, not the _talking_ you do. So, get on the ground and get moving.”

Both of them mumbled some _yeah, of course, Coach Wilson_ and went over to the mats. As usual, Peter laid back, lazily doing one sit-up after the other, while Ned hold his feet down, which was completely unnecessary. Since the spider bite, P.E. in general had been absolutely unnecessary for the young superhero. He could catch a bus with his hands. Why did anyone think he needs to do something like sit-ups? Once they were alone, Ned continued. “So? What is it, Peter? What happened?”

“I told you. I’m just annoyed.”

“Do you honestly think I believe that? Captain America has always been your second favorite superhero. You have almost as much Cap merch as you have Iron Man merch. You weren’t this upset with him when he dropped a gateway on you. What happened?”

Yes, Peter had been a Captain America fan. If he hadn’t been dressing up as Iron Man, he was dressing up as the super soldier. He’d been delighted the first time he saw all the Captain America PSAs, hanging on his every word. The first time he’d seen the detention one, it felt just as bad as if May or Ben had scolded him. Whenever the world needed saving, you could count on him to save the day, together with Iron Man and the other Avengers.

Which made this so much worse.

They said to never meet your idols. Peter hadn’t understood that saying, after all he met Tony Stark, and he just turned out to be even more awesome than he’d originally thought. But now he got it.

“I just realized that he isn’t the man everyone thinks he is,” Peter confessed, because he knew Ned, and Ned wouldn’t just drop it. Not something like this.

“What happened? And, please, don’t try to change the topic or lie, dude. I’m really worried. You’re not getting this angry without any reason.”

Peter took a deep breath, and looked around the gym. For once, it was actually pretty useful that both of them were practically invisible. He didn’t need anyone paying too much attention to them, and realizing what they were talking about. Just to be sure, he made a couple of tokenistic sit-ups, pretending to participate in the class. “Did I ever tell you about Tony’s mumbling?” Ned shook his head no. “He doesn’t do it often, only when he’s dreaming, and he needs to sleep to dream, and everyone knows he’s not sleeping enough. I mean, seriously, for a grown man he doesn’t know how to take care of himself at all, and he’s always telling _me_ to sleep more, and - ”

“Peter, the point?”

“Yeah, I’m getting to that. Anyway, sometimes he falls asleep when we’re watching movies, which is fine, because he’s always super busy, and he needs rest. Every now and then, whenever he’s dreaming, he just, like, mumbles. It’s really, really soft, and I’m pretty sure I only hear it because of my enhanced hearing. Most of the times, it’s not even coherent, just Miss Potts’ name – actually, it’s pretty often her name – or me or Colonel Rhodes, at times even half a sentence, like, I swear he told DUM-E off once.”

“What does any of this have to do with Steve Rogers?”

“Because he also said his name a couple of times, but it’s … different.” Peter stopped, again keeping the anger at bay. Though this time, it wasn’t only directed at the soldier, but also at himself. How hadn’t he noticed before? The evidence had been right there and he’d ignored it!

Ned waited a moment, but when he didn’t continue, he prompted: “Different how?”

“’cause it’s always something like _Steve, no, don’t_.” The hot anger turned into something cold, but it did nothing to calm him down. “At first, I just thought he dreamt about them arguing about the Sokovia Accords, but …”

“But what?”

Peter sat up and stopped, the cold feeling turning into concern and then actual fear. “But I think something happened. Something worse than just the fight in Germany. Something that was actually bad.” Either because he’d been new to the team or because he’s so young or because Tony hadn’t wanted to burden him with his problems, Peter had never heard the full story of what had happened after the fight at the airport. He knew that Steve and the Winter Soldier had left. He knew that Tony had gone after them – and had come back alone, injured, never mentioning his former teammate again. Peter had never dared to asked what happened, at first because they weren’t close enough back then, and now because he didn’t want to see the man upset. And he got upset whenever Steve was mentioned, even if he was only mentioned in a news report.

“Dude, for real?” Ned whispered, looking quite shocked. Peter nodded solemnly. “Why? I mean, what makes you think that? Did Mr. Stark say anything?”

“No, he doesn’t tell me anything about what happened. Never utters a word about it. But yesterday …” Peter took another look around, only to be extra sure that nobody is listening in. “Yesterday, Tony taught me about suit maintenance and what I had to look out for and potential problems and everything. But there was an important conference call he had to take, so he left me alone, and told me to have a look at the reports of his old suits. To $figure out why he stopped using them, what their problem was and everything. So, of course, I did what he told me, and first of all, I never knew how many suits he built! Almost fifty!” Ned’s eyes grew and Peter could hear a breathed _awesome_.

“Anyway, I studied the reports, which in itself was just incredible. You don’t believe what one of those suits is capable of.” Ned’s eyes were shining in excitement, and Peter made a mental note to tell his friend more about the suits someday. “However, I came across his last suit, Mark 46, the one he had in Germany. He didn’t stop using the suit because it wasn’t convertible with new updates, but because it was absolutely _destroyed_. I’m one hundred per cent sure that it didn’t look like that after the airport. Plus, I saw the time stamps of the last recording. They were briefly after the fight.”

“Does that mean there was another fight? One you didn’t know of?”

“Yes. And I think they fought each other. _Seriously_ fought each other. Like, to death.”

At this point, Ned’s eyes were so big they should’ve fallen out of their sockets. “Dude. You think Iron Man killed Captain America?”

“No.” The lump in his throat returned, but it wasn’t there because he was sad. No, Peter was furious. So much so that tears nearly sprang into his eyes. “Based on that report, I think it was the other way around. Almost”

His best friend just stared at Peter, while he tried to get a grip on his emotions. It really wouldn’t help his reputation if he started crying in the middle of the class. He couldn’t help it, though. When he had seen the report, seen the damage on the suit, he’d asked FRIDAY if there was any footage from the suit, but he wasn’t authorized to watch them. Peter could just stare at the holographic picture of the suit, all the damage that had been highlighted in a bright red. There was almost no part of the suit that hadn’t been colored red. The helmet had been damaged so much that it couldn’t be attached to the rest of the suit anymore. One of the arms was completely out of order. And the crack. The crack in the middle of his chest, right through the arc reactor. It was big and perfectly round – like the side of a shield. Someone must’ve been really strong to break through the Iron Man armor – like someone with enhanced abilities. Whatever created that crack must’ve also been very solid to not break because of the impact – like vibranium.

 In his need to keep the bad thoughts at bay, Peter had looked at the length and curve of the crack, calculating what size the object must’ve been. Because maybe it didn’t match up with the shield of the American hero. Maybe there’d been a different enhanced being with a vibranium shield. But it did match. Perfectly.

To his credit, the kid hadn’t had a panic attack. Mostly because he knew that FRIDAY always alerts Tony whenever he had one. He also didn’t start crying, because that would also get an alert. No, he had done all that in the privacy at his bedroom back in Queens, while gathering all his Captain America merch, stuffing it in a trash back, ready to donate it to some kindergarten or orphanage – because even though he was so upset with the ex-Avenger, he just couldn’t throw it away when he knew that other kids would be happy about it.

In the lab, Peter had just stared. His brain had trouble processing the new information, and connecting them with what he knew – or thought he knew – about his second favorite hero. Captain America was suppose to protect people, to help them. He was the moral compass of the nation. There were so many shirts, so many wristbands, caps, and backpacks with WWCAD written across them – _What Would Captain America Do_? There were several PSA videos shown to students across the country to teach them about values and rules. How could he do something like that? How could Steve nearly kill Tony?

A part of Peter knew that he didn’t know the full story. He just saw the result, not the process. Something could have happened that forced the soldier to be so aggressive. Maybe Tony even did something provocative – he was pretty good at being provocative – but still. Captain America was suppose to do what’s right. And ramming your shield into your friend’s chest was _not right_.

Of course, he hadn’t asked Tony about the suit or damage or the reason for the damage. It would’ve been useless, anyway. And honestly? Peter could understand him. He wouldn’t like to talk about something like that, too. So, after Tony’d finished his call, Peter had announced that he was _literally starving_ and needed food right this second. The man had just laughed, ordered them Chinese, and they watched some quiz show that had been on. Peter was fairly sure that he hadn’t noticed anything, because Tony always asked him what was bothering him if he even had an inkling that something wasn’t right.

Ned was still staring at him, gaping like a fish. Finally, he whispered: “For real?”

“Yeah.”

“But … I mean … it’s just – he’s Captain America!” A few students were turning their heads, giving them odd looks, but decided quickly that the two nerds that were talking about Star Wars half of the time weren’t interesting enough to listen in to.

“I know, but, dude, you didn’t see the report. The damage …” Peter shook his head. There was still a part of him that didn’t want to believe it. That hoped that he just didn’t have all the information, and that there was a different explanation for everything. “It’s not something that just anybody could’ve done. It was serious. And if Tony still needed the arc reactor to live … it would have killed him. Killed him _dead_.” It was needless to say that Peter had had a nightmare last night. Tony, lying somewhere on the floor, alone, lifeless, with a shield still stuck right in the middle of the arc reactor. Peter was pretty sure that his fear of losing another parent wasn’t something he would ever get rid of.

“I can’t believe it. That’s insane!” Coach Wilson was looking their way again, so they quickly swopped places. Ned struggled with the exercise a lot more than Peter, but after two sit-ups, their teacher turned away again, so they stopped and returned to their conversation. 

“Right? And nobody knows about it!”

“Well, duh. All the Iron Man stans would probably start a manhunt for him. The government would never let him come back.”

“Which is the other thing I don’t understand. Tony is still negotiating with the UN and the government to get the Rogue Avengers pardoned, and adapting the Accords. Why is he doing that if his friend hurt him so much?” The Accords were another thing the billionaire barely talked about. Peter had asked once when he should sign them, but Tony told him not to until they’re finished being edited, and also not while he was a minor. But he knew they were always on his father’s mind. Often, when he entered the lab, they would be lying on his workbench, quickly shoved into a drawer before Peter could get a look at them. At least once a month, Tony had a meeting with the UN. He was always in a bad mood when he returned. Why was he doing this? It had been their choice to not sign the Accords, to break the law, and to run away. Why was Tony paying for it?

“Dude,” Ned said, pulling Peter out of his thoughts, “do you actually call Iron Man Dad now?”

Suddenly, all his anger against Steve Rogers was forgotten. Peter’s mind went blank, and he blinked a couple of times. “What?”

“You just said _Dad is still negotiating_.”

He was shaking his head so much, Coach Wilson should count it as an exercise. “No, I didn’t.”

“Uh, yeah, you did. Man, it’s still so surreal! I can’t believe my best friend is a superhero and Iron Man’s son.”

“Keep your voice down, okay?” Peter hissed, nervously looking over his shoulder. Students were absolutely fantastic at hearing things they shouldn’t hear, and there was nothing that spread faster than a rumor. “I didn’t say Dad! I barely manage to call him Tony, so how can I say Dad?”

“But you’ve said it all the time, back when we did the DNA test? Even before that! You were always like, _oh, did you see my dad Iron Man save the day on TV yesterday?”_

“Yeah, but back then I didn’t know that it was true! It was like … when one of the girls talks about their celebrity crush and calls them their boyfriend. Just imaginary, and as some kind of joke.” Ned gave him a look that clearly stated that he wasn’t getting Peter’s point. “Look, I’m not even trying to call him Dad. I’m still struggling to drop the Mr. Stark, and say Tony instead. The Dad slipped out. It’s not intentional.”

“Maybe your brain is more used to refer to him as Dad than Tony.” Ned shrugged, like this wasn’t a big deal at all. Which Peter couldn’t understand at all. It was a _very_ big deal. “I don’t know. Don’t listen to anything I say. I’m good at coding, not psychoanalysis.”

“I can’t call him Dad, Ned,” he confessed, already feeling all his insecurities taking the upper hand again. “I think I would die. Literally. I’ll die of embarrassment. You better start planning my funeral, man. It’s not far away, I can feel it.”

“Why? I mean, he _is_ your father. It shouldn’t be weird.”

“Yeah, but what if he doesn’t want me to call him that?”

“Why wouldn’t he? Wasn’t he always pestering you about being less formal around him?”

“There’s a difference between –“

“Hey! You two chatterboxes!” Their heads snapped up and around, looking straight at a not very happy Coach Wilson. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he gave them scolding look. “Do you not get the meaning of P.E.? The class where you’re suppose to move, not talk?” They both mumbled an apology, but he ignored them. “Leeds, over to the bars. Parker, the ropes. Sorry, boys, but if you don’t listen, I have to separate you.”

Under the observing gaze of their teacher, Peter and Ned got up and went to their representative stations. Their conversation was still on repeat in Peter’s head, but after class Ned excitingly told him about the chat he’d had with Betty, and Peter honestly didn’t want to change the subject. Besides, Ned was always supporting him, so the least he could do was be supportive as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can also find me on [tumblr](https://jen27ny.tumblr.com/)!


	3. Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!  
> Again, a big THANK YOU to you all for the support you show for this fic, no matter if it's through kudos or a comment. I really appreciate it!
> 
> I've never been to New York, so these are just my assumptions about traffic there. Also, can I just say this: I'm baffled about the way Americans get their driver's license. Do you really just drive around with an adult until you're confident enough to take the test? Or is just a movie-thing? 
> 
> An enormous thank you to [blujfire](https://blujfire.tumblr.com/) who was kind enough to beta-read this chapter for me! 
> 
> Enjoy!

New York’s traffic was bad on a good day.

This wasn’t a good day.

The traffic all through Queens was absolutely catastrophic. There were three construction sites on their way from Midtown High to the Tower. Peter was fairly sure that he would be faster if he just walked, but Happy was being stubborn. He would see this chaos through, no matter how much time they spent not moving or how much he was swearing. Which was a lot, and even though he said it under his breath, Peter could still hear it. In an attempt to not just sit around and do nothing – because he already gave Happy his full patrol report, and told him everything about his day at school – Peter started his homework, so he wouldn’t waste his already shortened time in the lab with it.

“Hey Happy, do you know anything about –“

“If the sentence doesn’t end with Downton Abbey, I can’t help you, kid,” Happy interrupted him. The driver was unusually talkative today, and Peter wasn’t sure if he was trying to distract himself from the traffic or if there was a different reason. However, it was nice to not be the only one that was doing all the talking. Especially because they would still be stuck in here for quite some time.

“Didn’t you read any books in High School?”

“We did. But I didn’t read a single one of them. Got the summary from a classmate, and hoped that it would be enough.”

“Was it enough?”

“Barely.”

“So … you’re saying I shouldn’t read it, and just google what happens?”

“Very funny,” Happy deadpanned, and did not look amused at all. “I’m saying don’t be like me.”

“Why? You’re doing alright, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t even go to college, kid. I was a boxer, then became a bodyguard. Not the most ambitious job.”

“Oh, c’mon Happy! Don’t be like that. You’re an awesome bodyguard! And working for one of the richest people alive, who happens to be a superhero. That’s like, super exclusive and special.”

“First of all, nobody takes the bodyguard of Iron Man seriously. It’s like a joke. And secondly, right now I’m not a bodyguard, but a driver for a snotty teenager.”

Peter ducked his head, and guilt swept through him like a default setting. “Sorry, Happy. I really appreciate that you’re driving me around, but I could always walk, you know? Would probably be faster right now anyway.”

“No, we’re sitting this one out. Happy Hogan doesn’t give up that easily.” He started to drive again, an aggressive look in his eyes, only to stop about a foot later. On the sidewalk, a grandma with a walking frame passed them.

“I could also swing to the Tower,” Peter considered out loud, glad to get any excuse to not get back to his school book. “It would only take a few minutes, and you wouldn’t have to come all the way to Queens to pick me up.”

“Yeah, of course. I’m sure nobody would suspect anything if Spider-Man regularly swings from a certain school in Queens to the Tower in the afternoon. Nobody would connect any dots. Not in the age of the internet.” He gave Peter another very unimpressed look through the rear mirror. “Just out of curiosity, are you actively trying to have your identity revealed?”

“No, I don’t, I mean… well, I know that you have an important job at SI, and that you have a lot on your plate with the move back into the Tower. You’ve got better things to do than picking me up and –“

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Happy talked over him, while honking at a pedestrian that almost ran right into their car. Not that anything would’ve happened. They were still not moving. “If you want to blame someone, blame Tony, not yourself, okay? He’s the one who’s giving me orders. Anyway, my point wasn’t that I hate driving you around, it’s that I’m not a good role model.”

“Don’t say that, Happy! You’re great!”

“But you can be better. So read your book, go to college, and make something out of yourself. I’m the bad example, not the good one.” He shook his head. “Besides, if I’m the reason you don’t go to college, your Aunt, Tony, Pepper, and Rhodey will kick my ass. Which I do not want.”

“Tony says that, too,” Peter sighed. He wasn’t thrilled that his friend – even though Happy probably wouldn’t approve of that description – was downplaying himself. “Not about you, of course, because you’re awesome, but about himself. That he’s the bad example, and that I should be better.”

“Well, he’s not wrong. Not totally at least. He’s had his fair share of mistakes, and nobody wants to see you partying and getting drunk out of your mind.”

“Who’s the good example, then?”

“Pepper,” Happy answered immediately. “Pepper is the good example. Always try to be like her. She’s pretty much the only person I know who knows what she’s doing, and succeeding at it.”

“That sounds about right,” Peter mumbled. “Hey, do you know if Miss Potts has like, fifteen spare minutes some time this week? MJ would like to interview her for one of her essays, and I promised her that I’d ask about it.”

“Her schedule is pretty tight, but maybe she can squeeze it in. But only if you pick up that book again, and don’t drop out of High School.”

The superhero sighed, but raised his book anyway. “I was just taking a break. Nobody said anything about dropping out of school.”

“Stop with the excuses, and concentrate on your education.”

Peter did exactly that. Or tried to, at least, but it was like his brain refused to hold any information. He was reading and understanding the words, but he couldn’t get the meaning of the sentence. Partly because the book was plain boring, and partly because he’d been locked inside this car for way too long. Peter wasn’t one to sit still. He had to do _something_. Being trapped for such a long amount of time was absolute torture for him. However, he was still trying. Because if he finished this stupid assignment now, he could spend more time in the lab later, doing stuff that was actually fun.

“When are you getting your driver’s license anyway?” Happy asked after a few minutes, during which they moved about four feet. Well, at least it was progress.

“What? Why do you ask?”

“We’re in a car, surrounded by other cars, talking about me having to drive you around all the time. Your sixteenth birthday is coming up. It’s a valid question. If you can drive yourself, it would make a lot of things easier.”

“Well, I practiced a bit with May in some parking lots.” And crashed Flash’s car at Homecoming, but he didn’t need to say that, right? “But lately, she’s been so busy with work, and I’m so busy with Spider-Man and the internship, that we couldn’t find any time to continue. Besides, May needs the car to get to work.”

“You should talk to Tony about it,” Happy said, rubbing his beard in thought. “I’m pretty sure he could help out. No, I’m sure he would love to do that. Teaching you to drive, I mean.” A weird feeling blossomed in Peter’s chest, because the idea of Iron Man teaching him how to drive was so absurd, and domestic, and – as of a few weeks ago – entirely possible. Fathers teach their sons to drive. And Tony was Peter’s father, so the idea wasn’t that farfetched. Still, he was a busy man. Would he even have the time for something so mundane? Probably not.

_He always makes time for you,_ the voice that fought his insecurities threw in, _he would take the time to teach you._

“Or I could teach you,” the driver continued, completely oblivious to what his words had caused inside Peter’s mind. “Which would likely be safer anyway. The man is awful when it comes to following traffic laws.”

“But you have so much stuff to do and –“

“Then think of it as an investment. The sooner you learn how to drive, the sooner I can focus on my actual job. It’s self-serving.” Peter liked to think that, despite Happy’s harsh words, he would actually enjoy teaching him. After all, Happy was a softie in the inside. Not that Peter would ever say that to his face. Even Spider-Man wasn’t _that_ brave.

“It wouldn’t save the car problem, though. May still needs it more than me.”

“Bold of you to assume that Tony hasn’t already picked out a car for you.”

“Wait, since when do you know about memes?” Then, Happy’s words sunk in. “ _What_?!”

Happy gave him another confused look through the mirror. “Are you honestly surprised? You know Tony. You’ve spent a lot of time with him. How can you not even suspect that he wouldn’t get you a car? The man has at least fifteen himself.”

“B-B-But I … He can’t just – I don’t even have a license yet! W-What if I fail the test?”

“Cars don’t expire that fast, kid. And he could always sell it. It’s new, he would get a good price for it.”

“A _new_ car?!” Peter couldn’t help but yelp, promptly slumping back into his seat, putting his face in his hands. This wasn’t happening. This _couldn’t_ be happening! Why was this his life?

“You honestly think Tony would buy you a _used_ car? He’s a billionaire, he’s never bought anything used. By the way, most teens would be happy about getting a car.”

“I didn’t ask for a car! Not for a used one, and definitely not for a new one!”

“Yeah, I know. You never ask for anything.”

“Because I don’t need that stuff! Plus, I don’t want Tony to think I’m hanging out with him because I only want him to buy me things. I’m hanging out with him because he’s cool.” The car abruptly stopped, and not because the traffic wasn’t moving along. No, it was because Happy had hit the brakes, and literally turned around in his seat to look at Peter, looking at him like he was crazy. A bad feeling was settling in his stomach, like he forgot something very important. “What is it?”

“What did you just say?” Happy asked, an incredulous look on his face.

With every second that passed, Peter got more nervous. The need to get out of the car and move was growing. Would Happy lock the doors if he tried to run? “T-That I’m hanging out with Tony because he’s cool?”

“No, not that. The other thing.”

“That I don’t want Tony to buy me things?”

“No,” Happy sighed, “you said _Dad_.”

For a second, Peter couldn’t move. Did he seriously do that? Again? “No, I didn’t.” Why did this keep happening?

“Yes, you did. I heard you. You said _I don’t want Dad to think_.”

“You must’ve misheard it.”

“Kid, I’m old, but I’m not that old.” Peter was still thinking about a good comeback, while Happy turned back and drove about two feet, because the car behind him was honking aggressively. “Since when do you call him that? Never heard it before.”

“I don’t call him Dad,” he said more urgently than he intended.

“You honestly think I’ll believe that?”

“Yes! Because it just slipped out, okay? I don’t plan to do it, but it keeps happening, and I don’t know what to do if he ever finds out.” The boy almost had a minor panic attack in the backseat. Despite this being the third time that it happened, it was still just as implausible for him as it had been the first time. Richard had always been Dad, and even though Ned had been right, and Peter had jokingly called Tony his dad before, the superhero knew that Richard would always be Dad. He couldn’t go around calling him _and_ Tony Dad. That was just confusing. And embarrassing. It made him look like a little kid, not a superhero.

“Hey, kid, eyes on me. Breathe, alright?” Happy tried to calm him down, his eyes now more on him than on the road, which was probably something Peter shouldn’t mention to May. “Take deep breaths. There is no need to panic.”

Naturally, Peter continued to panic. “I called Tony Dad!”

“Well … not to his face, at least.”

“But what if I do?”

“So? He _is_ your dad, just in case you’ve forgotten.” Peter didn’t answer. Instead, he tried to calm down. He could feel all the worry and insecurities dancing around in his chest, making his head spin and breathing very difficult. He longed for the little voice, but it kept stubbornly silent. “Seriously, Pete, this isn’t the big deal you might think it is.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one calling Iron Man, a _literal_ _superhero_ , Dad.”

“Kid, if I called Tony Dad, there would be a very different kind of scandal, believe me. And I know that, because there were enough rumors around when I started working for him.” There was a part of him that wanted to ask what exactly Happy was talking about, but a bigger, smarter part of his brain told him that he didn’t actually want to know. But he still couldn’t calm down, which Happy seemed to notice. He was also getting too good at knowing him too well. “Hey, listen to me. You wanna know how I know this isn’t a big deal?” Peter could just nod. “Because for months, actual months, Tony referred to you as his kid. Not just the kid, or kiddo, or whatever nickname he has for you. _His_ kid. And that was long before the DNA test. Some of the SI employees even came up to me, asking if he’s got a secret son nobody knows about. Which is a bit ironic right now, but whatever. And do you know how he sounds when he talks about you?”

“Annoyed? Angry?”

“N– well, yes, sometimes. Only when you’re giving him heart attacks because you’re so careless. But nine out of ten times, he’s proud.” Happy held his gaze through the mirror. “That’s the reason why everyone thinks he has a son. Because he talks about _his_ kid proudly. Like a father would.”

“Thanks,” Peter croaked. Then, after a heartbeat: “It would still be embarrassing, though.”

“I never said it wouldn’t. But it also wouldn’t be the end of the world.” For a second it looked like he wanted to say more, but then his phone started ringing. After checking the road – just to make sure they were still moving slower than a tired snail – he looked at the caller ID. “Speak of the devil.” He held up his phone, the word _BOSS_ written across the screen.

“Don’t tell him!” If it wasn’t for the seatbelt, Peter would’ve jumped right into the front seat and snatched the phone away.

“Why would I do that? Who do you think I am? That stupid bully Flash?”

“How do you know about –“

Happy didn’t wait for Peter to finish his sentence, instead he answered the call. Thanks to his super hearing, Peter could hear Tony as loudly as if he was in the car with them. “Tony.”

_“What’s taking so long? You should’ve been here half an hour ago.”_

“Have you seen the traffic in Queens? It’s a nightmare.” As if to prove his point, he honked at a car that suddenly pulled up in front of them. The other driver flipped them off. 

_“Well, didn’t you check it before you started driving? You could’ve taken a different route.”_

“Tony, there’s no different route. It’s all throughout Queens, and if you don’t invent a flying car in the next five minutes, then we’re stuck here for the foreseeable future.”

_“Alright, alright, no need to get so snappy.”_

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one that’s stuck in here.”

_“Yeah, and you’re handling it like a champ. Tell you what, as soon as you drop the kid off, you can have the big TV for a Downton Abbey marathon, okay? All for yourself.”_

Happy hesitated, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “The last time you said that, you caused a major power blackout for the whole block, and I had to deal with all the angry neighbors.”

_“None of that this time, I promise. Just tell me when you’re driving at a speed that is actually normal for a car, and I’ll order take out. Peter must be starving by now.”_ As a matter of fact, Peter was quite hungry. Thanks, super metabolism. And puberty. _“What do you feel like? Chinese? Thai? Greek? Pizza? What about shawarma? Hadn’t had any since 2012.”_

“Anything is fine, really. It’s not like you listen to anything I say anyway.”

_“Oh, Happy, don’t say that. I always listen.”_ There was a pause. _“And then I ignore it.”_ Happy snorted, and Peter couldn’t help but grin. He knew that despite all their bantering, Happy was as much a part of Tony’s family as Pepper, Rhodey or even Peter. _“If you’re not picky, ask Peter what he wants.”_

The driver turned around to Peter, lifting his eyebrows in a silent question. He probably knew that he’d heard every word of the conversation. “Oh, I don’t need anything special. But I’ve never had shawarma before.”

“Kid wants shawarma,” Happy said, turning back around. “And get a lot, I can hear his stomach rumbling.” Peter’s cheeks were heating up. His stomach hadn’t been that loud, had it?

_“Excellent! I see you in a bit.”_

“It might take a little longer than a bit.”

_“Try being a bit more optimistic, alright? It’ll do wonders for you, trust me.”_ With those words, Tony hung up the phone.

Happy sighed, putting his phone on the seat next to him, and gave Peter another look through the rear mirror. “Do your homework or I’m telling Tony about our conversation.” By the time they arrived at the Tower, about 40 minutes later, Peter had not only finished all his homework, but also finished reading the book, and was more than ready to devour all the food Tony had ordered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my headcannon: Tony is a foodie. Not all the time, more like a part-time foodie. He either forgets to eat for four days or he's setting new trends. He's the reason why avocado toast is famous. Believe it or not, I do have some proof for this HC, but this would get too long if I start explaining it.


	4. Pepper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Thank you so much for your continuous support for this fic! I'm still pretty much blown away by it. 
> 
> Just to clarify: Whenever someone accuses Peter of calling Tony Dad, he IS saying Dad. But because it's his POV and he thinks he says Tony, I wrote Tony. It's not a typo or a mistake. I probably should've explained this way sooner. 
> 
> Again, a big shout-out to [blujfire](https://blujfire.tumblr.com/) who beta-read this chapter!
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Peter didn’t mean to fall asleep. One, it always made him feel like he was a little kid that needed a nap. It didn’t help at all that Tony was always calling him out on his naps, teasing him about them, saying the Spider-Baby needs his sleep. And two, his time at the Tower was already limited with school, homework, patrolling, Decathlon practice, and spending time with Ned and May. He didn’t want to waste the little time he had sleeping, when he could be tinkering with Tony in the lab.

That being said, Peter did fall asleep at the Tower that day. Not on his designated workbench, not on that old couch in the lab, not in the bed in his room that Tony especially set up for him, but on the big couch in front of the TV, where everyone who stepped out of the elevator and into the penthouse could see him. Arguably the worst spot to fall asleep.

But he still did, because he’d been absolutely beat. He had a rough patrol the night before, repeated kicks to the stomach, a sprained ankle, and – if Karen had been right, and she’s always right – a mild concussion. Thanks to Karen’s programming, there hadn’t only been May waiting for him when he climbed back through his bedroom window, but also Tony. Neither of them had been very happy when they pressed an ice bag at the bump on his head. But he hadn’t been bleeding, and the Baby Monitor had proven that he hadn’t been reckless on purpose – unlike some other times – so he’d gotten away with a mild scolding. They all knew that he would be all healed up by morning.

However, healing took a lot of energy. While all his injuries had healed, Peter had felt just as tired as he did before he went to bed. School had been as hellish as always. Ned’s excited rambling about the latest tweets concerning Spider-Man had lifted his mood a little bit. MJ had tossed him an extra apple at lunch, claiming she wasn’t hungry and didn’t want to throw it away. But as if to balance his friends’ niceness, Flash had been especially irritating. All day long, he’d shoved Peter into lockers, made him trip, called him Penis Parker louder than ever, and had just been a pain in the ass. It had been exhausting to ignore him, while all he wanted to do was to tell him to piss off.

When Peter had come to the Tower, Tony had still been in a meeting. For once not motivated to play around in the lab, he’d thrown himself on the couch, told FRIDAY to put on any show, and waited. Before he even knew it, he was dead asleep. And, okay, maybe he shouldn’t have been so surprised by that. He was exhausted, and he felt safe at the Tower.

His sleep was dreamless, which was quite relieving. He could’ve probably slept through until he needed to go back to school if he hadn’t been woken up. His senses came back to him lazily. There was a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake gently. He felt the smooth cover of the couch, heard soft breathing, and the rustling of fabric – FRIDAY must’ve turned the TV off at some point, because there was no noise coming from that direction – and there was a very familiar smell he recognized at once. A hint of motor oil, metal and aftershave. A smell that always calmed him down. A smell that told him he was safe.

“Tony?” Peter mumbled, fighting to open his eyes.

But instead of a pair of brown eyes and an iconic goatee, he stared into bright blue eyes that were framed by strawberry blond hair. Unless Tony had drastically changed his look in the last twenty hours, this wasn’t the mechanic, but Pepper Potts. There was a gentle smile on her face. “No, it’s just me.”

Peter blushed as he stuttered: “I-I’m so sorry, Miss Potts, I thought you were Tony!” It took him a second to realize why his nose had told him that Tony was near while he actually wasn’t. Pepper wasn’t in her usual suit, complete with some seriously dangerous high heels. Instead, she looked very domestic in a pair of designer sweatpants and a dark blue SI hoodie that the boy immediately recognized as one of Tony’s. Peter couldn’t blame her. Tony had the best hoodies. He didn’t even know why; because he had an identical piece of clothing at home, and yet Tony’s was always comfier. It was completely illogical, but it was like a law of nature. Gravity made things fall down, and Tony had the best hoodies. Clearly, Pepper shared Peter’s opinion.

 “It’s alright, don’t worry,” she reassured him. “Just wanted to ask if you want some hot cocoa.”

“You drink hot cocoa?” he asked, still a bit groggy, and sat up straight, reaching for his phone to check the time. He’d slept close to two hours. So much for wasting his precious time.

“No, I drink coffee, but I could make some for you while I’m at it.” She raised a questioning eyebrow, and Peter gave her a thankful nod. Usually, he would never ask Pepper Potts to make him some hot cocoa, but he could already hear his stomach rumbling. “Tony’s meeting isn’t going as smoothly as suspected. He probably won’t be here for another hour.”

“Oh.” In an instant, Peter felt disappointed, before pushing the thought away. Tony had a job, an important job. And sometimes he had to work overtime, even if he didn’t want to. There were countless occasions where May had to work longer because there was an emergency patient. “That’s okay, I guess. Nothing you can do about it.”

“Well, he isn’t too happy about it,” Pepper explained, walking over to the kitchen and busying her hands with the beverages. He followed her, not wanting to just sit around while she made him his drink. However, he simply stood somewhat awkwardly next to the counter. “I called your aunt, and asked if it’s okay for you to spend the night here. So, you’re welcome to stay here. We can all have dinner together later.”

“I love to, yeah,” he said. “Thanks, Miss Potts.”

“Please, it’s Pepper.”

“Pepper,” he said with a smile, but they both knew he wouldn’t stick with it. “What are you doing here, anyway?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how rude they actually were. “N-Not that you can’t be here! It’s your home after all, you’re allowed to be here, of course. I just mean that, usually, you’re always working late and stuff, so it’s just, I mean –“

“Relax,” she laughed, and handed him his favorite mug – a bright green one, with the face of an angry Hulk. “You don’t have to apologize for asking.” He nodded sharply, and took a sip from his cocoa because he didn’t know what else to do. “I actually took some time to get ahead with all the wedding preparations.”

“Oh, how’s it going along?” Peter was genuinely excited for the wedding. Ever since Tony told him that he would be there – _“At the actual wedding, not the decoy one. What’s that look? Are you going to cry or scream? Hey, Parker, talk to me!”_ – he couldn’t help but get giddy as soon as the topic came up. The only wedding he’d ever been to was the one of his parents, but he’d been way too small to remember anything about it.

Pepper sighed and sat down next to Peter at the kitchen counter. “Not as smoothly as I want it to go. You’d think after organizing countless events for SI, I would be better at planning my own wedding.” She ran a delicate hand through her hair. A move like that made Peter always look like a mess, but the CEO managed to still look put together. “I don’t even know why I have so many problems.”

“Well, I’m always happy to help!” he offered with a grin. “Not that I really know anything about planning a wedding, or any event at all, but I watched all these wedding shows with May when we were both sick with the flu, way back before the spider bite. They had a wedding show marathon or something like that, because, apparently, it had been wedding season. There was this one show where four couples competed against each other to win a honeymoon. Not that you would need to be on some TV show to get an awesome honeymoon, or that any of that means that I know anything at all about weddings, but … y’know, if you want a second opinion, I’m happy to help.” He took a large gulp before he could continue to ramble and embarrass himself even more. 

“Thank you, Peter, I really appreciate it.” She smiled and took a sip of her coffee out of white mug that had _BEST CEO IN THE WORLD_ written across it. A gift from Tony for sure. “The biggest issue is that we don’t even have a date yet. We have a decoy date, but that’s it. Happy swears he’s turning grey because of this, plus the move back into the Tower. He’s doing his best to keep the press out of our hair, though.”

“Maybe Spider-Man can help?” Peter offered with a shrug. “Like, doing anything big so the media would focus on him? It might give you some privacy.”

“That’s a really sweet offer, but we want you at the wedding.” He couldn’t help but smile while he took another sip. It was nice to hear that other people wanted you at such important events as their wedding. “Besides, your dad gets a heart attack every time you do something risky, and I would rather avoid having to drive my fiancé to the ER because of that.”

Peter had to stop listening after the third word, because he was choking on his cocoa. Pepper, always one to think on her feet, was patting his back, trying to get him to calm down. Which, of course, didn’t happen. It could’ve been a coincidence that she said _Dad_ , and he was pretty sure that he hadn’t talked about Tony at all for the last few minutes. Maybe it was just her way of normalizing the situation?

“Are you okay?” she asked as soon as Peter stopped coughing.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine.” Disregarding his panic and pounding heart, of course. She was rubbing his back, obviously knowing that he wasn’t fine. It was something that May also used to do, and some of his discomfort ebbed away simply because it was such a familiar gesture. However, he still had to ask. “Why, uh … why did you say that?”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“W-Why did you say dad? Not Tony?”

Peter didn’t know what the look on his face was, but it must’ve been bad. For a split second she looked confused, before she put all the puzzle pieces together. Her gaze turned soft again, her hand still rubbing his back. “Oh, Peter. You said Dad when you woke up.”

“What?” To be honest, it wasn’t that surprising that he said it in a half-awaken state given that he’d dropped the word in normal conversation before. But what really surprised him was that Pepper hadn’t made any comment until now. Everyone else had been confused, but not her. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were sleepy. I wasn’t even sure if you were aware of it.”

“I wasn’t.” Suddenly, he couldn’t keep the words inside him anymore, and they spilled out of his mouth like … well, not like vomit, because that was a disgusting image. But also a very fitting one. “It just keeps happening, Miss Potts, and I don’t even notice it. I’m simply talking about him, and suddenly everyone is looking at me funny because I’ve said Dad and I don’t even notice it.”

“That’s okay, don’t worry,” she tried to calm him down. “You can call him Dad if you want to.”

“But I don’t even know if I want to call him that.”

She tilted her head to the side, her hair falling over her shoulder. “Why?”

“I’ve always called Richard Dad, and I don’t know if I’m fully comfortable to call someone else that name now. Also, I don’t even know if Tony wants me to call him that.”

To his surprise, Pepper didn’t ask anymore questions. Instead, there was a smile spreading on her face and she briefly rubbed his neck, before taking another sip of her coffee. “A few days ago, I had a very similar conversation with Tony.” Peter could just blink. His mind was blank, and he had absolutely no idea where this was going. “We were talking about important appointments this week, like meetings, conferences, and all that boring stuff. But then he started talking about you, about the stuff you do at school, and how he helped you with your Physics homework. In the middle of his rant about your teacher, he suddenly said _my son_ and just stopped functioning all together. He’s called you _his kid_ ever since he made you that suit, but it was the first time he said _son_ , at least that I know of, and he panicked. See, just like you, he barely noticed that he said it. Took me about fifteen minutes to have him focus and talk about it.”

“Why did he panic?” Peter asked. He could somewhat relate, but there was still a difference between _son_ and _Dad_. Peter was fairly sure that he wouldn’t freak out as much if he said father instead of Dad. It had a certain level of professionalism to it. It sounded official.

“I don’t know what exactly Tony told you, but when he first did the DNA test, he was terrified. Locked himself into his workshop and just kept working in place of dealing with what was happening. Because he was absolutely convinced that he didn’t deserve to be your father, so he tried to ignore it.” The superhero nodded. Tony’d told him as much. The thought was still absurd to him. How could Tony think he wasn’t good enough, while it was clearly Peter who was lacking? “Anyway, he did come around and talked to you. I don’t need to tell you how that turned out, you know the details better than me. But even after your weekend at the compound, Tony is still very much unsure of how to handle all of this. He doesn’t know where the boundaries lie or what he’s allowed to do. He’s very cautious, because you’re too important for him to make a mistake. So when he called you his son casually, he feared that he crossed a line he shouldn’t have.”

He blinked. Tony was insecure? About them? That didn’t seem right. He was always so happy and comfortable with what they had. “But … it’s just a word.”

“It is. However, you did also panic when you found out you said Dad. And that’s also just a word.”

It was moments like these when Peter realized why Pepper was the good example that Happy was talking about. Also, why she was the best person to be SI’s CEO, because she clearly knew how to talk to people and make them see things her way.

“There’s a difference between son and Dad,” Peter said, somewhat defeated. A part of him felt like he should defend his reaction, maybe out of stubbornness or because he didn’t want to seem like he overreacted.

“Maybe. But it represents the same thing. I know Tony well enough that I’m sure he’s avoiding talking about your whole relationship because it’ll get too emotional for him to be comfortable with. And I know you well enough to know that you’re too polite to ask yourself. It’s something you need to talk about, though.” She gave him a small, encouraging smile. “I know it seems scary, but I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

“Everything still feels so unreal,” Peter confessed, rubbing his thumb over Hulk’s angry face. “I mean, I watched him on TV ever since I can remember, first as Tony Stark and then as Iron Man. You wouldn’t believe how many Iron Man T-shirts I had – and still have – and I’m so grateful that I took down the posters a couple of weeks before Tony came over the first time. And now he’s my father?” He shook his head slightly. “I just … can’t really imagine him doing any Dad stuff. Like the other day, I was talking to Happy about my driver’s license and he said I should ask Tony about it.”

“Tony would love to help you out,” Pepper reassured him.

“Maybe, but it’s still difficult to imagine. And what’s next? Is he going to PTA meetings? Will he talk to my principal when I’m in trouble? Is he coming to Decathlon competitions? Are we going to the park to play ball? It’s just …” Peter couldn’t even find the right words to describe the situation, so he simply shrugged. “He’s Iron Man. He saves the world. I can’t ask him to do something stupid like that.”

“Okay, first of all, it’s not stupid. I know that your priorities shifted since you started being Spider-Man, but those things are not silly or stupid. And you didn’t hear it from me, but Tony wants to do those things, even if he doesn’t say it. He bought parenting books.” She smirked, tilting her head a bit more. “But he hadn’t done proper research, and just ordered the books with the highest ratings. They’re all about infants. So, if he comes up to you and tries to get you to burp or something, just play along.” Peter couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, because that thought was simply ridiculous.

“Thanks,” he said, though he wasn’t really sure what he was thanking her for. “Everything is just so new.”

“I know, but that’s alright. And I can completely understand why you don’t want Tony to talk to your teachers. Why do you think he’s only in one meeting every couple of days?” He laughed, and this time Pepper joined him. “Also, if you need another emergency contact for your school, I’m happy to help out. I’m told I’m very good at handling things.”

“I think Principal Morita would freak out if Pepper Potts showed up at his office.” Suddenly, Peter had a completely different realization that almost made him drop his Hulk mug. “You’re going to be my stepmom. Pepper Potts will be my stepmom.”

“I’m already watching every Disney movie for references,” she joked, clearly not getting how absolutely mind blowing this was. Pepper Potts, the Pepper Potts, would be his stepmother. That’s like Iron Man being his dad. Which was also a thing now. What was even his life anymore?

“No, don’t say that! You’re not evil!”

“Are you sure about that? I mean, I already have you staying in my tower. Who says you’re allowed to leave? Maybe I’ll just keep you here and force you to grow your hair out.”

“To be honest, being held captive in the Tower wouldn’t be that bad.” Pepper laughed, and Peter couldn’t help but grin as well.

“Well, before I can continue with my evil stepmom plans, I need to have a wedding first.” She sighed, finished her coffee, and stood up from the kitchen counter. After two steps, she turned around again and gave him a pointed look. “So, are you going to help me or not?” Peter jumped up, simultaneously downing his drink and nodding his head yes.

When Tony came back from his meeting, he was in a very bad mood. Nobody had bothered to tell him that Peter would be spending the night at the Tower, so he thought he wouldn’t see his son this day. However, the gloomy could over his head disappeared the second he saw familiar brown curls next to a strawberry blond ponytail. The two were halfway through Pepper’s binder, and Peter had given her his opinion on her wedding dress options. Which hadn’t been really helpful, because he’d announced that every single one was _the one_ and that she would look amazing in any of them. They both were also sure that they needed to stop Tony from choosing a ridiculous suit, and Pepper swore that she would blow the whole thing off if he dared to show up in his Iron Man suit. Neither of them noticed how Tony took out his phone and snapped a quick picture before announcing his arrival.

While they made dinner – just simple pasta with some creamy sauce – they talked about their days, did the dishes, and discussed even more wedding ideas with a few absurd ones thrown in by Tony to make them laugh. Peter finally realized that the thought of Iron Man being his dad and Pepper Potts becoming his stepmom wasn’t so bad. In fact, it felt really domestic and normal. At least as normal as it could get for him.

“Tony, those are terrible ideas!”

“Well, you knew what you were getting into when you said yes in front of a room full of press people.”

“Which was only because you messed up.”

“Hey, if anything, it’s Peter’s fault for declining my Avengers offer and leaving us with a room packed with people but no news.”

There was dull crash coming from where Peter’s phone hit the floor. “ _WHAT_?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Pepper and Peter together was so much fun! Honestly, I was surprised by how easy it was to have them interact. Also, I have so many ideas for these two. Especially whenever Peter's school is involved, because Tony isn't the only helicopter parent. But I don't have any idea what an American school is like and I was told that High School Musical is not an accurate representation, so all of this has to wait until I did some more research.


	5. May

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> I know that it's been a while since I last updated, but I had to take a little break for [my final exam](https://jen27ny.tumblr.com/post/186055256237/a-little-update) (which I passed, yay!)
> 
> I've never watched The Bachelor and every argument in here is one I got from a rant from my former Economics teacher. This chapter is not beta-read, so that means: I'm not a native speaker and while I always try my best to get everything right, there're always a few things I get wrong. I still have absolutely no idea where to but commas. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Peter threw two pieces of popcorn in the air. Despite his superhuman reflexes and his spidey sense, none of them landed in his mouth. One hit him in the eye and the other one was stuck in his hair. May laughed and plucked the food out of his hair.

“I would say you need more practice,” she teased, “but I thought I taught you to not play with your food?”

“I’m not playing around. The food just … takes a little detour.” He shrugged, but put the next few popcorns in his mouth the normal way.  As if on cue, the commercial break ended and the intro of the show flashed across the screen. Peter couldn’t help but groan. “Remind me why we’re watching The Bachelor?”

“Because it’s movie night and it’s my turn.”

“The Bachelor isn’t a movie.”

“I thought we had the whole movie-or-show-argument when we watched Sherlock?”

“There’s a difference between those two shows.”

“There is, but it’s still my turn. And I picked The Bachelor.”

Peter wrinkled his nose. It was one of the movie night rules that you do not argue about what someone picked. Not that that rule had ever kept anybody from trying. He needed to change his tactics. “MJ says it’s degrading towards women because the show is suggestive of women only being interested in looks and money, not character. Also, because they’re willing to compete against each other for the attention of one man.”

May sighed, but her eyes didn’t leave the screen. “Well … she’s not wrong.”

“Then why are we still watching it?”

“Because,” she said and looked at him, “I simply cannot watch Star Wars for the millionth time.”

“We haven’t watched it a _million_ times.”

“It’s close to a million, trust me.”

He threw more popcorn in his mouth and chewed loudly, hoping to drown the argument between Kathrin with a K and Cathrin with a C out. May turned the volume up. The woman knew him too well. Alright, maybe he should work on her parental side. “But shouldn’t you show me good female role models? Like … I don’t know, someone who’s not afraid of her opponents and is a good leader and fighting for what’s right and is brave and smart and –“

“I know you’re talking about Leia,” May interrupted him. “Besides, you personally know Pepper Potts. She’s a pretty good female role model.”

“You’re also pretty good,” Peter said, because he felt like he should. Sometimes, there was this urge in him to just tell her how much he appreciated her. Whenever that happened, he would give her an extra hug, buy her flowers, give her a card or simply tell her. After Ben died, the urge showed up more frequently. Especially whenever he saw the tired look in her eyes after a double shift at work, just so they had enough money to stay in the apartment and to have food on their table.

“Thanks, honey,” she said, quickly running her hand through his hair in a comforting gesture. Peter smiled. “But we’re still watching The Bachelor.”

Peter sighed dramatically, but didn’t say anything else. It didn’t really matter what they were watching anyway, as long as they were doing it together. They hadn’t had one in forever – okay, about three weeks, but still. It felt like forever. They used to have one every Friday night and it became their special ritual. Ben would buy pizza from his way back from work, May would make popcorn, Peter would set up the side table, and they would all squeeze onto the couch, all giggles and laughter. Peter had watched Star Wars for the first time during a movie night.

But over time, it had changed. Ben’s work schedule changed, having him work Friday nights. So, movie night had been moved to Saturday. Then Peter had started having sleep overs at Ned’s, and Saturday turned into Sunday. Then it changed again and again and again. Every week turned into every fortnight. Every fortnight turned into once a month.

Then the OsCorp field trip had happened. Ben died. Peter became Spider-Man and sneaked out of his bedroom almost every night. Tony Stark happened and then Peter didn’t have time for _anything_ anymore, least of all movie nights. After May had found out, it got better. The lying and sneaking around stopped. Movie nights became mandatory as a way to remind him that he wasn’t just Spider-Man. Neither of them had time for a weekly movie night, but they actively tried to make time for it.

May’s phone on the table buzzed a few times, indicating incoming texts. Curiously, he watched as May picked it up and checked her messages. “Who is it?” Normally, Peter wasn’t nosy. But he didn’t want to watch the show, and when they had been shopping earlier, this guy had been flirting with May, somehow actually managing to get her number. Peter hadn’t liked it at all, but had kept quiet nevertheless, because May deserved to be happy. So, he had to keep his protective side at bay.

He was still thinking about asking Karen to dig into the guys background. Or maybe Spider-Man could pay him a visit. But as long as May didn’t know anything about it, it still counted as _not getting involved_ – right?

“It’s Tony,” she answered, eyes still on her phone.

At once, Peter relaxed. “Oh. What does he want?”

“He wants us to move.”

He blinked once, twice, three times. Then: “What?”

May chuckled, typing a quick reply, before putting the phone down again. “Yeah, he’s been doing this for a couple of weeks now. It was more subtle, at first. At least subtle for him. He sent me different buildings and apartments, claiming he wants to invest his money and buy real estate, asking for my opinion because they were all in Queens. Then he casually mentioned that he needed someone to live in there to maintain it.”

“He wanted to buy a house for us?” Who just buys a house for someone else to live in? Was that something billionaires just do? Why had he never heard about it before? There should be a show about it. Peter would watch it. It would be better than The Bachelor for sure.

“He still wants to. But he realized that there was no point in being subtle about it. So, every day he sends me new places, probably thinking that I would agree if he just is persistent and finds one that I like.” May just chuckled, obviously being more amused by Tony’s efforts than annoyed. That fact alone spoke volumes of how much the relationship between those two had improved. The first few days after May had found out about Spider-Man, Peter hadn’t even dared to use a Stark product in her presence. Now she was – most likely – sassing him over text.

“Happy said Tony bought me a car,” Peter said, because he’d completely forgotten to mention it.

“Yeah, I know.”

Peter almost choked on his popcorn. “What? And you haven’t said anything?”

May simply shrugged, grabbing some of the popcorn for herself. “No, because I knew you would freak out.”

“Because I don’t want him to buy me a car! I can’t accept something like that! Why didn’t you stop him?”

“It’s not like he asked me before he bought it. All I got was a picture of it and he asked if you would like the color.” May sighed, her eyes still on the TV, but Peter knew that she wasn’t really paying attention to the fighting women on the screen anymore. “I told him that you won’t accept it. He said you would change your mind because it’s a necessity.”

“Maybe if we’re living in the suburbs or on the countryside, but we’re in New York. We have the subway. We have busses. Heck, I could just put on my suit and swing from one place to the other. I don’t _need_ a car.” Something like panic filled Peter. He was never comfortable with accepting expensive gifts. May and Ben had taught him to work for the things he wanted. The journey is the reward and all that. Simply getting whatever he wanted felt … kind of worthless. Besides, there’re more important things than money, and the most expensive wasn’t always the best. Justin Hammer’s things had been very expensive and they’d been absolutely shit.

“Hey, I’m not the one you need to convince. And while we’re on the topic: Ever since he turned out to be your father, he’s even more determined to smother us with money. He says it’s delayed child support. So, I’m pretty sure you have a bank account that’s packed with money, because I forbid him from just buying stuff and leaving it in the apartment.” That had happened before. May and Peter had come home a couple of times to find random, brand new things in the middle of their living room. May ate more popcorn. “Well, besides school supplies, including all the backpacks that you keep losing.”

Peter gave her a sheepish look. “I’m not doing it on purpose, I swear. It’s just really hard to keep an eye on your backpack when you’re fighting crime.” She snorted and he thought about what she just said. Knowing Tony, May was probably right and Peter had a secret bank account. Part of him wondered how many Lego Death Stars he could buy; another part was just mortified about owning so much money. Yeah, okay, he didn’t know how much money was on that account, but Tony was a billionaire who liked spending money. The tips he always leaves at restaurants are phenomenal. One waiter literally started crying after they left the little bistro near his school. “I guess I don’t have to worry about college tuition anymore.”

“Oh no, that money isn’t for college.”

“But –“

“It’s not for college,” May continued, and gave him a look that was maybe amused but also annoyed – which was her patented Tony-is-involved-look, “because Tony wrote you a check that will cover tuition and probably a lot more basically the minute he met you. And that are not his words, but Pepper’s, so it’s gotta be true.”

Peter really wanted to be shocked. He really did. Because he wasn’t used to people just spending thousands of dollars like they were pennies. Honestly, though? He was moved. Back then, they weren’t really close. Peter had been absolutely sure that he’d made a fool out of himself in front of his hero. However, Tony still looked at him and thought _I’ll pay for this kid’s education_? That was something that reminded him why Tony was such a good man, even though he didn’t believe it himself.

It didn’t mean Peter was comfortable knowing that the man was just giving him so much money, though. In fact, he made a mental note to talk to him about it. All that money spending had to stop. Did no one ever teach him to _save_ money?

Because the boy didn’t really know what to say, he just turned back to eating popcorn while trying to not watch The Bachelor. Cathrin was sitting in the pool area, complaining to Sandy and Laura about Kathrin while painting their nails. Next to them lay three StarkPhones. “Do you think Tony knows that his stuff is on shows like this?”

“Hate to break it to you, Pete, but OsCorp never made nail polish,” May joked.

But Peter didn’t get it. Why was she talking about OsCorp? That’s SI’s biggest competitor and Peter didn’t even dared to mutter the word Osborn, because Tony would start a fifteen-minute-long rant why SI was so much better. And he knew that because it happened. More than once. His mouth was already open, the words laid on his tongue – and then it clicked.

Did he say Tony? Or did he say Dad? Because Richard had been working for OsCorp – who indeed do not make nail polish. Some emotion filled him. He wasn’t really sure what emotion. It felt a lot like panic, but it also almost made him want to cry, which was not his usual go-to-reaction when he panicked.

May seemed to notice that Peter went rigid and looked over to him. Gently, she laid a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, what’s wrong?”, she asked concerned.

“What did I just say?” Peter asked in a small voice. His heart was pounding in his chest. Even though this wasn’t the first time he’d slipped up, it felt like it was. No, it was worse. Because while everyone else had been confused or, in Pepper Potts’ case, knew who he was talking about, May had just assumed that he was talking about Richard. Because Dad had always been Richard.

Until now.

“What do you mean?”

“Did I say Dad?” He choked over the last word. There was this familiar tingling in his nose that always announced the tears that were lurking just behind his eyes. On the screen, the Bachelor flirted with Kathrin while Cathrin fumed in the background.

“Yes, why –“ May didn’t finish her sentence. Instead, her confusion turned into understanding. However, she didn’t seem angry, although Peter couldn’t say what she looked like. He was too focused on his own emotions. A small smile crept on her face. “You didn’t mean Richard?”

“I didn’t want to say it,” Peter said quickly, because he felt like he should explain. And – as always – he just kept rambling. “It keeps happening and I don’t even notice it! And everyone is so confused. Even Karen! Karen! Who is the smartest AI, like, ever!”

“Honey.” Before Peter could even set the popcorn aside, May’s arms were around him, pulling him into a hug. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“But –“ His breath was ragged and he tried so hard to keep the tears at bay. “But Dad was always Richard.”

“I know.”

“But when I’m calling Tony Dad, I –“

“No, stop that, okay?” She pulled away to look him in the eyes, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not making anyone angry if you call Tony Dad. Tony _is_ your dad. So, if you want to call him that and if it’s feels right, that’s fine. And you can still call Richard Dad. No one’s going to stop you.”

“Everyone will be confused.”

“So? Let them. They can figure out who you’re talking about.”

Despite the tears that were still trying to escape his eyes, Peter laughed. To hear that she was okay with it felt like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Well, half of it. Because there was something else he had to say. And it wasn’t like they were watching an interesting movie like Star Wars or anything where they had to pay attention. “I never called Ben Dad,” he whispered. _Or you Mom_ , he added in his mind, but didn’t actually dared to say those words out loud.

“That’s alright.” She rubbed his back, finally putting the bowl away that had been awkwardly stuck between them.

“Ben was like a father to me. He taught me so much and I love him, but I never –“ Peter had to swallow. “I just … couldn’t.”

“I know he never told you,” May said, “but he didn’t want you to call him Dad. A few months after we took you in, he feared that you would start calling him that and he was terrified.”

“Why?” he asked confused. It was the first time he heard about it.

“Because Richard was his brother and he felt like he would replace him. Which he didn’t want. After all, he lost his brother and he wanted to cherish his memory. He loved you like his own son, but he wanted you to remember who your dad was. Or, well, who you thought was your dad. I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed it, but he made sure that you would never confuse him with Richard. Constantly described himself as your uncle, while mentioning your parents a lot. To be honest, I wasn’t so happy about it at first. I thought it would make it harder for you to come to terms with everything that happened.”

“It didn’t,” Peter said. Now that May was mentioning it, he remembered how often Ben would talk about his parents. It had been difficult at first, but at least he’d talked to Peter about them. Everyone else had avoided the topic, too afraid to upset a child. “I always knew that I could talk to Ben about them, either the happy or sad memories.”

“You know that you can always talk to me, too, right?” She had this smile on her face that was kind of sad, but also very warm. It made his heart ache. “About whatever you want to talk about. Richard and Mary, Ben, Spider-Man, MJ –“

“W-Why would I want to talk about MJ, I-I mean we’re f-friends and –“

She ignored his flushed cheeks and embarrassed rambling. “Whatever it is. I’m always listening.”

“I know. Thank you, May,” he said and hugged her again, because he felt like words weren’t enough to convey all his feelings. “I love you.”

“Oh, I love you, too, Petey.”

“Nobody has called me Petey since I was, like, eight.”

“Not to your face.” The superhero couldn’t help but laugh. May brushed through his hair again, as she leant back. “But just to be clear, because we’ve kinda lost track here for a second: If you want to call Tony Dad, you can. No one’s going to be mad, and it doesn’t mean that you don’t love Richard or Ben anymore. It just means that you’re having three dads now.”

“That sounds like a reality show.” This time, it was May who laughed and Peter couldn’t help but grin. “A scientist, a cop and a billionaire take care of a young superhero.”

“It would be a hit. So much better than The Bachelor.”

“Then why are we still watching?” He pointed to the screen, where Kathrin and Cathrin were passive-aggressively, excessively nice to each other.

“Because,” his aunt said, grabbing the bowl of popcorn and settling it on her lap, “it’s movie night and it’s my turn.” Peter groaned again. By the end of the night, Kathrin and Cathrin survived elimination, Laura didn’t get a rose, and Peter actually imagined what would happen if he called Tony Dad to his face. For the first time, he didn’t dread it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one will be Tony! 
> 
> Also, now that I don't have to practice for my exam anymore, I have so much spare time that I decided to give prompts and headcanons a try. So, you're welcome to drop some prompts/headcanons in my askbox over at [tumblr](https://jen27ny.tumblr.com/)!


	6. Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! :)
> 
> I’m so, so sorry for the long wait, but writing this chapter was so much more difficult than I expected. It’s so much longer than I anticipated, and the second I got to the emotional part, I felt like I forgot everything I ever learned about writing. Then I had to overcome my writer’s block, because why deal with one problem at a time when you can have three for one? Anyway, I’m very relieved that I finally finished it, though I’m pretty nervous about all the emotional conversations again. 
> 
> As always: This is not beta-read. I don’t know where to put commas. I’ve never been to New York, so I don’t know how it smells, but I just figured it would be similar to other big cities I visited. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Sensory overload sucked. That’s it. Period. No one would ever convince Peter otherwise. Not when had to deal with it on a regular basis.

Sure, it’d been pretty great to suddenly have 20/20 vision and it was very useful to hear to secretive whispers of the bad guys he was fighting. But nobody had told him about all the other stuff. Artificial lights were generally too bright and hurtful, as was the sun most time of the day. Which was one of the reasons why Peter loved sunsets so much. It was soft, natural light that didn’t hurt his eyes. On bad days, he could see the smallest particles of dirt and dust whirling through the air and even complete darkness seemed to be too much for his sensitive eyes.

Silence was something that he simply didn’t experienced anymore. He lived in one of the liveliest cities of the world in an apartment building with thin walls. There were always noises. If not close to where he was, it was a few blocks away. The school bell gave him headaches _every single time_. Sometimes, he could hear his own blood flowing through his veins. Other times, he could hear other people’s blood running through _their_ veins and that was terrifying.

Smell and taste were absolutely unnecessary in Peter’s opinion. The other ones could help him fight crime, but those two? They didn’t help Spider-Man. And New York _smelled_. It didn’t help that he could smell the trash cans a few blocks away. And all the people, all the sweat – he didn’t even want to think about it. Smell was inevitable. Thanks to his new taste buds, the teenager was now an expert at guessing every spice or ingredient in any dish; but that only happened on good days. Whenever his taste buds got too sensitive, even the blandest type of bread would be too much for him. On those days, he could do nothing but just drink water until his sense calmed down. And only water was not enough calories for a teenager with super metabolism.

Touch was something he was nervous about, because while it had acted up, Peter knew that it hadn’t been really bad yet. Sure, there had been that one time where he had to stand completely naked in the shower for several hours, no water running, just standing there and waiting, because everything else had been too much. But compared to what his other senses did to him … it hadn’t been dialed up to eleven yet. Maybe a seven or eight. Sometimes, when his mind wandered and he thought about all the negative side effects of the spider bite, he wondered what would happen if it reached eleven. Would he be able to feel the vibrations of every sound? Would he feel molecules and atoms moving around?

And when he really wanted to freak himself out, he wondered if his sixth sense – his spidey sense – would act up as well. What would that be like? Would that tingling feeling never let him rest? Would he even be able to get out of bed?

No, sensory overload was not fun. Peter had enough evidence to proof it. On bad days, when he would wake up and _everything_ hurt, May let him stay at home, closing his bedroom curtains and trying to be as silent as she could. Peter knew that May always felt especially useless when that happened. She was a nurse, she helped people on a daily basis, but she couldn’t help him. However, not every bad day started out as a bad one. Like this one.

Peter woke up with a light headache. Well, it wasn’t really a headache, but more of an irritating pressure right between his eyebrows. That kind of pressure you would get when you’re on your phone too late at night because Buzzfeed Unsolved had uploaded a video about Spider-Man and that had led to another conspiracy video concerning the vigilante’s identity and then another and another – and before you knew it, it was already really late. Not that Peter had done that. That would’ve been stupid, especially because May had told him to not stay up late because it was a school night.

So, when he noticed the annoying pressure, he blamed his own stupidity and thought nothing more about it. Surely it would get better as soon as he was outside, because fresh air always helped, they said. Peter didn’t really know who they were or why fresh air always helped – it seemed very useless if you had, like, a bullet wound; again, nothing that he would know _anything_ about. Pure speculations. But nevertheless, he kept his mouth shut, got ready for school, gave May a kiss on her cheek and skipped out of the building.

Fresh air did not mean the streets of Queens. Also, no amount of fresh air would’ve helped him.

The second he set one foot on the pavement, he knew that it wasn’t exhaustion that caused his headache. He could smell the lunches the kids carried in their bags on the other side of the street. He could hear the argument of the couple in a car a few hundred feet ahead of him. The light was a bit too bright, even though the entire sky was covered in thick clouds. For a moment Peter thought about turning around and asking May to call the school. But they had a Spanish test next week and he really needed to be in class if he wanted to do good. Furthermore, they had Decathlon today. MJ would kill him if he missed it. Besides, it wasn’t even _that_ bad. He had had worse. And who knows? Maybe it would get better. That would happen from time to time. Like his senses were a little overwhelmed, but settled down.

It didn’t get better.

By the time Peter reached Midtown, the pressure had transformed into a headache. His headphones were plugged into his ears, but no music was playing. They were cushioning the noises, making the long walk and ride on the subway a bit more endurable. He kept his head close to his chest, trying to only breath in his own smell – which he could only smell when his nose got this sensitive – and the familiar scent of the laundry detergent May bought. Ever since she found out about his sensitive nose, she only bought scent-neutral ones. It took them a couple of tries until they found one that wouldn’t irritate his nose too much. But now, the scent was almost burning – however, it drowned out all the other smells.

He sensed Ned long before he reached his locker. “Hey Peter!” he greeted him in a cheerful voice that vibrated in every fiber of Peter’s body. Even though he had been prepared, Peter couldn’t help but flinch at the sensation. Ned, always the observant and thoughtful friend, lowered his voice and asked: “Dude, are you okay?”

“Just … too much,” he mumbled while gesturing to his head.

“Your senses?” His voice was barely a whisper now, and Peter was once again more than grateful to have a friend like him. He should probably get him a gift or a card or something. Maybe Tony had some old suit parts that he could give Ned. He would lose his shit. Peter nodded, pulling out his books and closing his locker. “Why are you even here, man? You should be at home. School is, like, the worst place to be, especially if your senses are acting up.”

“The Spanish test.”

“That’s next week. Plenty of time to catch up.”

“MJ would kill me if –“

“She will also kill you if you can’t pay attention because you’re sick.”

“I’m fine,” he gritted. “It will get better.”

Ned didn’t look convinced. In fact, he looked quite the opposite. “You don’t have to torture yourself, you know? Nobody will think any less of you if you just admit that it’s too much.”

Peter gave his friend a tight-lipped smile, trying to ignore the stomping of hundreds of feet, the deafening chatter all around him, and all the different smells. It was nauseating. “I know. But I’m really fine. It’s not even that bad”

He wasn’t fine. Not at all. He couldn’t pay attention in a single class, always getting distracted by some noise, smell or reflection of the light. His eyes hurt so much, he could barely keep them open. His head was pounding and he could feel every heartbeat vibrating behind his eyes. Every second seemed like an eternity and it just didn’t get any better. Quite the opposite, actually. All the stimulation made his senses even more sensitive.

By the time lunch rolled around, Peter regretted everything. He wanted to go home, he really did, but he honestly didn’t think he would make it back. What if he passed out in the middle of the street? They would take him to the hospital where they would test his blood and find out about his spider mutation. May had to work and couldn’t come pick him up. So what else was he suppose to do than suffer through it?

His head rested in his hands, his palms pressing against his eyes, while trying to concentrate on the smell of his clothes. But there were so many smells in the cafeteria – all the people, their clothes, their food, the metal, the wood, just everything. Ned was sitting across from him, chewing as slowly and silently as he could, not saying a word. Peter did feel bad for him, but right now he just didn’t have the strength to do something about it.

Familiar footsteps – MJ – approached their table and she hesitated. He could smell her tuna sandwich and her book. “What’s up with him?” she asked Ned. Because she didn’t know about his senses, she didn’t lower her voice and now it was echoing painfully inside his skull.

“He’s not feeling too good,” Ned whispered his answer. “Killer headache, you know?”

“Why is he even here, then?” Thankfully, she followed Ned exampled and lowered her voice.

“The Spanish test.”

“Isn’t it next week?”

“And Decathlon.”

MJ didn’t say anything, but Peter thought he could hear her blink. But maybe he was imagining it. He hoped he was, because if he would start to hear blinking, he would _lose his mind_. “Hey, loser,” she said, a little louder, as if he couldn’t hear her otherwise. “If you’re sick, you should go home. You’re no use if you can’t even keep your eyes open.”

Peter opened his mouth to respond and that’s when all hell broke loose. At least for him. Logically, he knew that it was impossible, but the second he opened his mouth, he could taste _everything_. Maybe it was his smell that was just acting up and effecting his taste buds, maybe he could actually taste the food through the air – it didn’t matter in that moment. That was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Before he even knew what he was doing, Peter jumped to his feet and ran out of the cafeteria. Ned yelled something after him, but there were too many other noises to identify his words. His feet carried him along the hallways, further and further away, until he reached the small supply closet he had gotten quite familiar with. Peter pulled the door open, fled inside and hid in the corner, knees pulled up to his chest, arms around them, and his head pressed against his knees. He discovered this closet a few weeks ago. Most of the art supplies were stored in here and all their chemicals distracted him from the other smells. It wasn’t exactly a perfect solution, but it was still better than the cafeteria.

Peter couldn’t tell how much time passed. He just counted his breaths, trying to block out all the input he got and failing at it. All the chatter was as clear as if he were still in the same room as them. Every high-pitched laugh made him shiver, and the school bell almost split his head in half. A sob was stuck in his throat, but Peter didn’t dare to open his mouth again.

Then, suddenly, he heard a sound that he didn’t associate with the school. It almost got drowned out by all the other noises that kept distracting him, but Peter focused on it. A hurried pair of footsteps, that he knew all too well, accompanied by another pair of footsteps, that he also knew. They were on their way to him, Peter could tell because they kept getting louder.

“He’s probably in that one closet,” Ned – the owner of one of the footsteps – said and sounded a little out of breath. “He told me that all the stuff in there kinda blocks out everything else. I’m so sorry that I called you, but I just didn’t know what else to do. May didn’t answer her phone and -”

“It’s alright, Ned,” the other one interrupted him. The other one that was Tony Stark. Tony Stark was in his school, on his way to him. “I’m glad you called me.” His voice was strained in a way that Peter knew meant that something was on his mind.

“He can probably already hear us,” Ned continued, because he talked when he was nervous and Peter didn’t need his enhanced senses to tell him how nervous his friend was. “I mean, he said it wasn’t that bad and everything, but he looked really bad. Like, really pale and in pain and he barely opened his eyes and flinched, like, every second.”

“I’ll take care of him, I promise.” A warm feeling spread inside Peter’s chest and he let out the sob. Tony was here to help him, to fix this. And he would fix it, because he was the best at fixing things. “Which closet is it?”

“That one over there.”

“Alright. You should go back to class. I’ll handle it from here.” Ned’s footsteps shuffled away, although a bit hesitant. Tony was still getting closer, but his steps were more careful now, as if he tried to make as little noise as possible. When he reached Peter’s door, his voice was barely audible for a normal person, but for Peter it felt like Tony was sitting right next to him. “Hey, buddy, it’s me. Tony. Ned called me, said you don’t feel too great.” Peter opened his mouth to answer him, but no words came out, just another sob. “I will get you out of here, okay? Everything will be alright. I got some stuff that will help you calm down. So, I’m going to open the door and slide them in. Just put them on and come out whenever you feel ready.”

Tony waited a moment, giving Peter a second to brace himself before he opened the door. All the other smells came crushing back, but the most intense one was the smell of motor oil, metal and a familiar aftershave. A smell he linked to feeling safe. It made everything else a bit more endurable. Something slid across the floor and the door was closed again.

A bit hesitant, Peter opened his eyes. A small, black box with the SI logo on top was sitting in the middle of the room. He pulled it close and opened it. Inside were a pair of sunglasses and what looked like headphones. The glasses were pitch-black, nothing like he had ever seen before, but he put them on anyway. The effect was immediate. No normal human would’ve seen anything through it, and even Peter was somewhat skeptical if he’d see anything if his senses wouldn’t be so sensitive right now. There was a little bit of light coming in through the sides, but it was still a huge relief. With new hope blooming inside his chest, he put on the headphones and another sob escaped him. It wasn’t like it was completely silent, but it sounded more like he was deep underwater. All the sharp noises were muddled together and hushed, almost like white noise.

For a second, he just sat there, trying to relax his rigid body and enjoying the dulled input. Slowly getting to his feet, Peter walked over to the door and opened it, a bit nervous to leave his little safe haven. The first thing he noticed was Tony’s smell, then he actually saw the man standing next to the door. He was in front of him in a heartbeat, hovering over him. “Better?” Tony asked. His voice sounded a bit funny through the headphones, but Peter could hear him clear enough. He nodded. “Good. Let’s get you to the Tower, okay?”

The whole way to his car, Tony’s hand was planted on his back, either to push him forward or to steady him, Peter couldn’t tell. It wasn’t like he was paying a lot of attention anyway. Even though the glasses and headphones helped, his senses still picked up way too many things. Whenever the sunlight managed to find a way to shine into his eyes, they burned. Loud noises still let him flinch. And his smell seemed to get worse, as if it tried to be especially irritating, now that his eyes and ears got a break. Peter tried to concentrate on Tony’s smell. Motor oil, metal and aftershave. It was a smell that was safe, that gave him comfort.

The second they reached the car, Tony ushered him into the backseat and it took Peter a moment to noticed the tinted windows. Tony got into the driver’s seat and started the car. Normally, you wouldn’t hear the softest noise from the engine, but right now it was a low drum in Peter’s ears, somehow even piercing through the headphones. He must’ve made some kind of noise, because Tony’s eyes darted to him, a worried look on his face, and he sped up. He didn’t say a single word though, which was kind of uncharacteristic for him. Maybe he didn’t want to be too loud? Peter couldn’t tell and he wasn’t really in any shape to think too hard about it, but it was making him a bit nervous. Tony’s rambling and the low rumble of his voice were comforting, just like his smell.

By the time they reached the Tower – which they did ten minutes faster than usual – Peter’s head was absolutely pounding. He didn’t know why – maybe he was exhausted after so much stimulation, maybe his senses were still too sensitive, maybe he was getting migraines now – but it was torturous. His eyes were firmly shut, he pressed his hands against the headphones and tried to block out every smell that wasn’t Tony’s, his own or the laundry detergent’s. Peter barely noticed when Tony stopped the car and yanked him out of it. They rode up the elevator to the penthouse, all the while Tony was still not saying a word, typing his instructions for FRIDAY instead of saying them, and keeping his breathing as shallow as possible. Peter could hear his heartbeat, though. It was almost dangerously fast and if he wasn’t so distracted right now, he might’ve said something.

The way from the elevator to his room was even more of a blur than anything else. Peter was absolutely positive that his senses were going haywire because of the sudden lack of stimulation. He didn’t have a single, logical thought, too distracted by all the pain. The only thing that grounded him was Tony’s presence. His smell, his heartbeat, the firm hand on his back.

When they reached his room, it was dark inside. Like, absolutely dark. And silent, except for the sounds he and Tony made. Peter reached for his glasses, but the billionaire kept pushing him until he was next to his bed and then he pushed him onto the bed. A small part of him wondered how Tony could see in this darkness. Or did his glasses have night vision? Did he even wear glasses today? Peter couldn’t remember.

For the first time since he left the apartment this morning, Peter felt like it was getting better. A sob escaped his lips as he laid down, taking off the glasses and the headphones. It was still painful, but it was also still dark and silent. He could actually calm down and relax here.

Until Tony started to move away. And, logically, Peter knew it was so he wouldn’t irritate his senses anymore, to give him time and space to calm down, but his brain wasn’t thinking logical right now. Panic overtook him and he blindly reached for the man. Tony couldn’t leave. The pain got better when Tony was with him. What if it would get worse when he left? Peter didn’t want that. He didn’t want the pain, he wanted it to stop, he wanted comfort, he wanted Tony staying by his side, he wanted …

“Dad,” he whimpered, still trying to get a hold of him, “don’t leave, please. Stay. Please.”  For the blink of an eye, Peter thought he was alone in the room. He couldn’t hear Tony breath, he couldn’t hear his heartbeat. It made him panic even more. Ignoring the painful pounding in his head, Peter sat up, reaching for the spot where his nose told him Tony was. His fingers didn’t reach anything. “P-Please, don’t leave me.”

Then there was a heartbeat again and not a second later, Peter felt rough, callused hands gripping his own. Relieve flushed through his veins and breathing got a little bit easier. “I’m here,” Tony said softly, talking for the fist time since they left the school. The low rumble vibrated in Peter’s body, but it wasn’t really painful. More of a reminder that Tony was still there, that he was still looking after him, making sure he was okay. “I’m not going anywhere. Just lay down again, okay?”

Peter wanted to say something as he laid back down, but no coherent word came out of his mouth. Tony stayed next to him, holding his hand and running his other hand through his curls. It wasn’t long before Peter fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

When Peter woke up, he felt strangely exhausted and disoriented. For the first time since his spider bite, he couldn’t hear anything. It was pretty unsettling. Tiredly, he blinked a couple of times, but everything was pitch-black.

_Am I dead?_ , was his first thought. He blinked a couple more times, hoping that his eyes would get used to the whatever was happening, but it stayed dark and silent.

Then he remembered. Sensory overload. Going to school. The cafeteria. The supply closet. Tony coming for him and driving him to the Tower. Staying with him until he fell asleep. Peter breathed out, relieved that he was not dead, but quite the opposite.

“Hey FRIDAY, could you turn on some light, please?” At once, the room – which was, in fact, his room at the Tower, complete with the huge bed, the Star Wars posters, the Lego sets and everything else a teenager needed in their room – was illuminated in a soft, orangey light, that somehow made him even more tired. “Thanks.”

“ _It is my pleasure, Mr. Parker_ ,” the AI answered. “ _And may I add, it is very good to see you in an intelligible state again_.”

Confused, Peter pulled his eyebrows together, staring at the ceiling. “What do you mean?”

_“This is your fourth time waking up, but it is the first time you seem to feel better. Do you feel better, Mr. Parker?”_

“Yeah, I feel fine. A bit tired, but otherwise I’m fine.” Peter couldn’t remember waking up or even FRIDAY talking to him. Which begged another question. “What time is it, anyway?”

“ _It is exactly one a.m. twenty-three minutes and fifty-one seconds_.” Wow, he slept for quite some time. How was he still exhausted? On the other side, he was always tired when his healing factor took care of his injuries, so maybe this was similar. “ _Boss is on his way to you and will arrive in approximately two minutes and fifteen seconds. He ordered me to inform him when you are feeling well again._ ” Peter nodded, closing his eyes for a second and trying to remember the last few hours he had been conscious. While he had a vague idea about what happened, all the details were pretty fuzzy and in hindsight, it was impossible to tell what had been real and what had been a fabrication of his mind to deal with the extensive input. Most of them, anyway. Other ones were crystal clear, every detail burned in his brain.

Two minutes and six seconds later, his door opened and revealed a casually dressed Tony, carrying a tray and a box. He did not look happy at all. The last time he saw the billionaire this tense was after the ferry incident. Under his father’s unreadable gaze, Peter sat up in his bed, trying to ease the crushing tension with a small smile. It didn’t work. Somehow, he felt like he was in trouble.

Tony’s eyes didn’t leave him even one second.

Scratch that. Peter was _definitely_ in trouble. He just didn’t know what for.  

“How are you feeling?” Tony asked as he reached his bed, pulling a chair close to the bed before sitting down.

“I’m fine.” He gave Peter a stern look, forcing him to keep eye contact. “Well, maybe a bit exhausted, but other than that I’m good.”

“No pain?”

“No pain.”

Finally, the mechanic broke their staring contest – Peter still felt like he had lost that one –, looking down at the tray, sniffing once, and almost slamming it into Peter’s chest. On the tray were a bottle of water and a couple of sandwiches. “You must be starving.”

His stomach rumbled, reminding Peter that he hadn’t eaten anything since his hurried breakfast this morning. “Yeah, thank you.” Tony was watching him like a hawk as he took his first bite, all the flavors exploding in his mouth in a pleasant way. The tension was still there and the teenager couldn’t figure out why Tony would be mad at him. Oh, wait. What did FRIDAY just say? Something about alerting him? “Did FRIDAY wake you up? I’m sorry, if I’ve known that she would do that, I –“

“I didn’t sleep,” he interrupted Peter, his voice strained in a way that usually meant he was trying to control his emotions. “I had too much work to do.”

“O-Oh, really? Well, I guess –“

“Work for _you_.” The way he stressed the word made Peter think that this was the reason why Tony was mad. Before the young superhero could even ask what he was talking about, he opened the box and revealed the couple of items inside of them. Without looking at him, Tony pulled out a pair of sunglasses that were shaped similar to safety goggles and glasses so dark, a normal person couldn’t see through them, and what looked like a casing for contact lenses. “These will help with your eyes, obviously. The contact lenses aren’t as effective as the shades, because I couldn’t get as much features on them without the material being irritating for your eyeballs, so always carry the glasses with you. And _use_ them, no matter how silly you think you’ll look.”

Before Peter could even mutter a single word – or process what just happened –, Tony was already reaching inside the box again. This time, he pulled out headphones that looked a lot like airpods. “For your ears. There are little regulators on the side. They go from blocking out as much as any pair of headphones would to blocking out every soundwave in your immediate surrounding. Also, they play music just fine, so replace your old headphones with these ones and don’t _ever_ forget them.” The next things were three little vials, two filled with some pills, the other one with a clear liquid. “The rest was a bit tricky, because I couldn’t simply make gadgets like glasses or headphones. Unless you want to wear a full body suit all the time.” Peter shook his head quickly. Tony’s attention returned to the vails. “I’m not finished with these, mostly because I want Helen to have a look at them before I give them to you. I’m not really the biology kind of scientist, so there may be something that I’ve missed and that could hurt you even more. Which is something we’re not risking. The pills are for taste and touch, the liquid is basically a really strong smelling salt.”

“Thanks so much,” Peter said, swallowing the last bit of his first sandwich. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread inside his chest, accompanied by guilt. Tony didn’t sleep because he was making all this stuff for him? “I really appreciate it, but you didn’t have t-“

“Don’t even dare to finish that sentence.” His voice was a lot sharper than Peter had anticipated. “Just don’t. I can’t deal with all your selflessness right now.” Peter mumbled an _okay_ and took the next sandwich, mostly to keep himself from saying anything else. It didn’t stop the guilt from growing in his stomach, though. Tony watched him for a second, before sniffing again and crossing his arms over his chest. “Why the hell were you even at school? Ned said you felt terrible right from the start.”

“It wasn’t that bad in the morning.” Tony gave him another stern look. “It really wasn’t! It was just some pressure, like, right here,” he pointed to the place right between his eyebrows, “and I thought I was just tired. But then it kept getting worse.” He almost said that he stayed because of the Spanish test and Decathlon, but he had a feeling that Tony wouldn’t react too well to it.

“Why didn’t you leave earlier? There had to be a point where you know it didn’t make any sense to stay any longer.”

Peter hesitated for a second, knowing that his next words wouldn’t make this conversation more comfortable. “I-I thought I might pass out or something.” Tony’s eyes darkened and Peter quickly continued. “And then they would’ve brought me to a hospital and I can’t go to hospitals anymore because of my mutation and everything. May was working, she couldn’t pick me up.” He shrugged. “So I had to stay.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” The man was trying very hard to keep the hurt out of his voice, but Peter was still hearing it. At once, he felt absolutely terrible. Why didn’t he call him?

“Honestly, I didn’t think about it,” he confessed, not able to meet his eyes. “A-And you were probably working anyway, and I don’t want to, like, bother you or something and –“

“Oh Peter”, Tony sighed, burying his face in his hands. For the first time since he had entered Peter’s room, tension seemed to leave his shoulders. He took a deep breath and when he looked back up, there were wrinkles Peter had never noticed before and the mechanic looked older. “You don’t bother me. Especially when you need help with something.”

“But you have so many important meetings with board members or the government or the UN, and –“

“What can I say that will actually get inside that stubborn head of yours?” This time, he leant forward, making sure that Peter was looking into his eyes and keeping the eye contact, demanding all of his attention. “Listen to me. Whenever you need my help, I will drop anything and everything to help you. You got that? Whatever it is; homework, injury, panic attack, sensory overload, problems with your friends – whatever. And whenever, too. Don’t ever think that something isn’t important enough or that I have better things to do. I won’t. When you need help, you call me, okay?” Somewhat dumbfounded and totally embarrassed, Peter just nodded.

Tony hold his gaze for a moment longer, as if to make sure that he was getting the true meaning of his words, before he reached inside the box again. A slim, digital watch with a black wrist band appeared. “Wear it all the time,” he actually ordered, handing it over to Peter and waited for him to put it on. It fit perfectly and was so light, he barely noticed it. “It’s waterproofed, so don’t even take it off in the shower.”

“What can it do?”

“Besides having an alarm clock that’ll never fail to wake you up? For one, it transfers all your vitals to FRIDAY, so don’t even try to hide any injuries or panic attacks anymore.” For a heartbeat Peter wanted to protest, but Tony’s look made him shut up. “It also has a tracker and a panic button.” He pointed to a nearly invisible button on the side of the watch. “Press it once and I call you as soon as possible. Press it twice and I will immediately fly to wherever you are. Press it three times and it’s basically the whole cavalry – me, Rhodey, Happy, police, fire department, ambulances. Everyone.”

At once Peter was absolutely terrified that he would press the button three times by accident and then had to explain to everyone that there was no emergency. “Thank you,” he said again, eyes still on the watch, “but isn’t this a bit much?”

“Oh no. Don’t you try to tell me this is too much.” Peter lifted his eyes back up and was surprised by how angry Tony looked. Like, proper angry. The ferry incident seemed like a mild scolding compared to this. “Don’t try telling me I overdid it. Not when I had to almost carry you out of your school because you were in so much pain. Which I never _ever_ want to witness again, do you understand me?”

“It wasn’t even that bad,” Peter mumbled – opting not to tell Tony about the few times when it had been _really_ bad – and instantly regretted it.

“You were in so much pain, you hallucinated, Peter!” Tony barked, almost throwing the box off of the bed in the process.

Peter could do nothing but blink at the man who was trying to get his emotions back under control. He hallucinated? That had never happened before. May and Ned had both witnessed some of his sensory overloads that were worse than this last one, and they had never mentioned hallucinations. “I didn’t hallucinate,” Peter said, because it felt like the only thing he could do.

Tony rolled his eyes and while he was still tense, he looked a bit more relaxed, like he finally got something off of his chest. “Of course you don’t think you hallucinated. That’s why it’s a _hallucination_.”

That actually made sense. And his memories were pretty fuzzy, so maybe Tony was actually right. Maybe this one had been worse than Peter had originally thought. “What did I hallucinate?”

His father didn’t answer him immediately. Instead, he sniffed, quickly looking at one of the Star Wars Lego sets on his bookshelf, meeting his eyes, only to avoid them once more a second later. “You thought Richard was here.”

Peter’s stomach dropped. He knew what Tony was talking about – and he hadn’t been hallucinating. He’d called Tony Dad. On purpose. At least as much as he could while not knowing what was happening. And, yes, it had been a spur-of-the-moment thing and normally he would’ve been absolutely embarrassed. But back then, he hadn’t. He’d been in pain, he had wanted comfort, he had wanted the person that made it better, he had wanted someone who cared about him, he had wanted Tony – his dad. It had just felt right, and it still did. Peter couldn’t say why he was so calm about it now, after all he had been stressing about it for weeks.

But Tony thought Peter wanted Richard by his side. That thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, though the boy couldn’t really explain why. He wasn’t feeling betrayed or hurt, yet it was quite similar to it. A part of him understood why Tony thought he’d been talking about Richard. After all, Peter had always referred to Richard as Dad. Plus, they barely talked about their relationship. So why would Tony think he was Dad? He had no reason to. That part of him wanted to just drop the topic, to say that he did hallucinate, and forget everything about it.

But that part wasn’t the one calling the shots.

Because the bigger part of him was still upset. Not just about his father not realizing that he was Dad, that he was the one Peter wanted comfort from and by his side when he was in pain, but about the entire situation. About them not talking about it. About not changing anything. About all the questions he had that he didn’t get any answers to. And he knew that this was the best opportunity he could get to get the answers he wanted.

Peter’s gaze was fixed on his hands, putting the half-eaten sandwich back on the plate. His heart was in his mouth. His palms were sweaty, but for once he didn’t have the urge to run or move around. “I didn’t hallucinate,” he said determinately.

Tony sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “Peter, I can show you the footage if –“

He didn’t let him finish. “I didn’t hallucinate, because I wasn’t asking Richard to stay with me.” Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Tony freeze. Gathering every ounce of courage he had left in his body, Peter met his gaze, somewhat surprised by how openly baffled Tony looked. “I was asking you.”

The billionaire just stared at him. Blinked once. Slowly opened his mouth, but no sound came out. It was rare that Tony Stark was speechless. “But you said –“ He didn’t continue the sentence, instead he kept staring at him, as if he’d grown a second head.

“I know what I said. And I meant it.” He lowered his eyes again, mumbling: “Still do.”

“You were in pain,” Tony said as if that was the only reasonable explanation for anything. As if Peter didn’t know what he was talking about.

Somehow that only urged him on further to get his point across. A bubbling rage started to form in his stomach. “Yes, and because I was in pain, I wanted my dad.” Tony’s eyes twitched. Peter knew that it was most likely an involuntary reaction, but it only fed into the upset part of him. “You are my dad, aren’t you?” His tone was harsher than he intended, but he didn’t really care in that moment.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Tony asked back, getting defensive himself. His right hand grabbed his left one, massaging the wrist for a second.

“Exactly what I just said.”

“You’re making no sense. I am your father. We already had this conversation, or do you not remember that? It was quite dramatic. I figured it was worth remembering, but maybe all the details from Star Wars are more important.” Peter wasn’t hurt about his words or the bite behind them. No, he was just getting angrier.

“Oh, I do remember,” he said, and surprised himself by not looking away from Tony. His thoughts started to get cloudy. “I remember the _two_ – and one of them was phenomenally bad – talks we had that turned my life around and then _nothing_ happened.” If Peter wouldn’t have been so focused on his own emotion, he might have noticed the shift in Tony. The mechanic blinked a couple of times, his anger replaced by confusion. But Peter didn’t notice. Instead, he just kept talking, because the dam in him, which had kept all the questions and confusion inside him for weeks, finally broke. And with it, everything else came crushing down. “Nothing happens, we’re not talking about and I have so many questions! But I can’t ask them because the last time we spoke about it, it was a disaster and we didn’t speak for two weeks and I don’t want to risk that again!”

“Peter –“

Peter couldn’t hear him. “And it’s not like I really want anything to change, because I like the way our relationship works, but something massive changed and I just want to talk about it. But I don’t feel like I can and you don’t ever even mention anything that has to do with family, so all I’m thinking about is: _Is he unhappy with situation? Am I the problem? Would’ve been better if we never found out about it?_ Like, I don’t know how to behave or what to expect and what’s expected of me and that’s making me so anxious and stressed and -”

“Okay,” Tony – _finally_ – said, basically jumping from the chair to Peter’s bed, placing a hand on his shoulder. There was a ringing in Peter’s ears, he noticed his too fast breathing and his new watch was beeping annoyingly, but he had trouble calming down. “It’s okay, I’m here. Everything is fine, you don’t need to panic.” Peter was giving him a look that clearly said _too late, I’m already panicking_. “Or we can panic, that’s fine, too. Let’s – Let’s just breath together, okay? Breathing in,” he took a deep, exaggerated breath and Peter followed his example, though pretty poorly, “and breathing out. See? Easy. Let’s do it again because it’s so much fun.”

They took another couple of deep breath, Tony making extra sure that Peter was breathing normal again before he shoved the water bottle in his hands, waiting patiently while Peter downed half of it. “Thanks,” he said, though he couldn’t say if it was for the water or breathing technique.

“Anytime,” Tony waved it aside. He waited barely a heartbeat before continuing. “Now that we’re breathing and having a normal heart rate again, we should talk about what just happened.”

After basically vomited out all his anxious thoughts that were troubling him for weeks, Peter felt less brave. He kind of wanted to turn back the clock before his little outburst, but he could climb walls, not turn back time. Besides, he _really_ wanted to talk about it. That urge was stronger than his fear. “Y-Yeah, probably.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” his father confessed, still keeping a close eye on him. Maybe he was anticipating another rant. Or a panic attack. Both was possible. “But let me get this straight: You’re not the problem. I am not unhappy. You can talk to me about anything. Alright?” Peter nodded his head. “No, I need you to actually say that you understand me.”

“Okay.” Tony raised an eyebrow. Peter couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “I understand you.”

“Good.” Silence stretched between them. Peter almost didn’t dare to breath, instead he fiddled with the label of the water bottle. Tony ran a hand through his hair, scratched his beard and sniffed before he got his thoughts in order. “I’m not ignoring this. Me being your father, I mean. I just don’t know how to handle it. So, I do what I always do when I don’t want to deal with emotional things: ignoring it and keep working as if nothing ever happened. Which was a terrible move, clearly, given all your frustration.”

“It’s not all your fault,” Peter said, because he really didn’t want Tony to think that everything was on him. “I could’ve said something.”

“But I’m the adult. I should’ve been the responsible one and make the first step, no matter how uncomfortable I am. Which is exactly what I’m going to do now.” As if to give himself a little push, Tony squared his shoulders and turned his body to him. “You mentioned questions. That’s probably the easiest place to start. So, ask away.”

As soon as he mentioned the questions, it felt like all the questions were wiped from Peter’s memory while they simultaneously came crushing back at him. For weeks, he’d imagined what a conversation like this could go like. He had a priority list for all his questions, but right now they all seemed equally important. Finally, he settled for one. “Is this going to be a secret forever? Or can I go around and tell people that you’re my father?”

“Whatever you want, I’m fine with it,” Tony answered immediately without even thinking about it for a second.

That was not the answer Peter was looking for. And he was getting annoyed again, because he knew what Tony was doing; letting him decide everything to assure he was happy, albeit Tony himself could be unhappy with it. If Peter didn’t stop this right now, he wouldn’t get any real answers. Taking a deep breath to stay calm and not start another rant, he announced: “I don’t want to make all the decisions. I mean, I’m grateful that I get to have a say, but this isn’t just me. It’s both of us and I want us to make decisions together.”

For a moment, Tony was just looking at him before scoffing in an amused way. “Why do I always feel like you’re the mature one out of us?”

“Because I am?”

“That sounds about right.” Tony smirked and Peter felt a little bit of the tension leaving his body. “Of course you can tell anybody you want to tell. I’m not going to forbid you from talking about it. But I don’t think we should make it public just yet.” Peter couldn’t help but feel somewhat disappointed. However, before he could even figure out why exactly he was feeling like this, Tony was already speaking again. “And, no, not because I’m disappointed or ashamed or whatever you might think now. I could never be disappointed or ashamed by you. In fact, if it would be up to me, I would brag all day, every day, to everyone about you. Which, full disclosure, I already kinda do.” Peter blushed when Tony gave him a soft smile that was similar to the one he usually reserved for Pepper.

The moment didn’t last long, though. Slowly, Tony’s smile turned into a little frown. “But it’s not up to me. You being my son makes you a target by default. The second the press finds out about it, they won’t leave you alone. They will follow you around, they’ll try to find out everything about you, they’ll try to get as many pictures of you as they can get. The people around you will start to treat you differently, in positive and negative ways. And I don’t even want to start thinking about all the ways it could put you in danger. You being kidnapped because someone wants to blackmail me is not something I want to experience. I want you to have a normal live.”

“I’m a spider-themed vigilante. While I’m still in High School.”

“Well, as normal as you can be while being a superhero. Which, you know, is pretty difficult to do if paparazzi won’t leave you alone.” Peter couldn’t help but chuckle, mostly to hide how absolutely terrifying that thought was. “Now, I’m not saying we should keep this a secret forever, but we should at least have a plan for it before we blow everyone’s minds.” He nodded in agreement, suddenly remembering that Tony grew up with all the attention. Just thinking about it made him almost panic.

It also answered a lot of other questions. If no one knew that Peter was his son, he wouldn’t have to change his name. A bodyguard would be kind of pointless, because it would just draw unnecessary attention. Besides, Peter could lift cars one handed and he had his spidey sense to warn him of danger. He didn’t really need a bodyguard.

On to the next question. “Do I have to take over SI?”

“If you want to.” Peter scrunched his face, thinking he was once again just letting him decide everything, but Tony didn’t give him a chance to continue. “I want you to be happy and do something you enjoy. Whether that’s taking over the company or being a scientist like Richard or a cop like Ben or building Lego professionally at Lego Land or joining the circus, I don’t care.”

Peter couldn’t help but snort. “Why would I join the circus?”

The billionaire shrugged. “I mean, you swing around the city all day long in a way that’s giving me heart attacks, so it’s not that far off. But that’s not the point.” Tony cleared his throat, avoiding Peter’s eyes, and that’s all the boy needed to know that whatever was coming, was going to be personal. “I never had a choice. Basically, the moment I was born, it was decided that I would take over the company one day. Luckily, I actually enjoy my job, so it turned out okay, but I was never asked if I wanted to do something else. And I want you to have a choice and choose what makes you happy.” Peter couldn’t help but smile because a warm, fuzzy feeling was spreading inside his chest. “That being said: I planned on asking you if you want to take over the second I saw your web shooters.”

“What?!” Peter couldn’t help but shout.

“I’m serious. When I first saw them, I couldn’t believe that a kid made them.”

“Teenager,” he corrected, because he’d been fourteen when he made them and that’s not a kid-age anymore. That’s basically an adult.

“Same thing.” It wasn’t, but whatever. “Peter, you build incredible things already, and I can’t wait to see what that amazing brain of yours cooks up in the future. I think SI would flourish with you at the top. But only if you want to do it.” Tony’s expression was so honest and serious, Peter had to look down on his lap, already feeling the blush heating up his cheeks. He’d never been great at accepting compliments.

“I don’t even know what a CEO does. Besides talking with everyone”, he confessed, feeling the need to get off the pedestal Tony had put him on.

The mechanic rolled his eyes in an affectionate way. “Kid, I’m not talking about being a CEO, that’s Pepper’s job. I’m talking about being head of R&D.”

“Oh … yeah, that sounds like more fun.” Tony snorted, but didn’t say anything, clearly waiting for Peter to ask his next question. Only it wasn’t really a question, more of a statement. And not a very nice one. Also not one the man would like. The young superhero cleared his throat once, gathering all the courage he had. “I, uh, don’t really like it if you, like, give me very expensive things every day.”

Just like he had expected, Tony’s face went blank. “What do you mean?” His tone was hard and emotionless.

Because Peter couldn’t really look the man in the eyes, he nodded to the box sitting close to him. “All this stuff. Like these glasses, the watch, the –“

“Absolutely not. No way,” he interrupted Peter, standing from the bed, as if it would make his point clearer. “You will have them and you will use them. That’s not negotiable. They are not some fancy toys to play around, they are for your protection, for your safety, and I won’t budge on it.” The look in Tony’s eyes was hard, unmoving and determinate. Peter wanted to argue, but he knew it would be pretty much pointless.  

Besides, there were other things Peter wouldn’t budge on. “But buying us an apartment? That’s too much! I know that our place is a bit scruffy compared to your penthouse and everything else, but we like it there. It’s home and I don’t want to move, and neither does May.”

Tony scoffed, still standing next to the bed, looming over him. “You think I want you to move because your place is _a bit scruffy_? Kid, I don’t care if you don’t have designer furniture or if you prefer to buy stuff from the thrift store or if you dumpster dive, as long as it makes you happy. What I do care about is your safety. And that apartment is a safety issue.”

Something – maybe the way they weren’t on the same eye level anymore or Tony thinking the place Peter had stayed for almost a decade wasn’t safe – made Peter irritated. In frustration, he pulled his eyebrows together, stopping short of crossing his arms over his chest. “We never had any problems.”

“Not _yet_. But your only kind of alarm system is that you have to pull and turn the knob in a certain way for the door to open smoothly. And that’s just not good enough for me.” Okay, yes, the lock was a bit wonky, but who would want to break into their apartment anyway?

Still, Peter needed to prove a point. “I can fight anyone who tries to break in.”

Tony shook his head slightly. “I’m not saying that you can’t, but what if you’re out on patrol or in school and someone breaks in while May is there? What if something happens to her? I don’t like taking risk when it comes to the safety of my family and you two are part of it now.” The bubble of anger inside him deflated a bit. To be honest, he hadn’t thought about it, because May was working a lot – but she wasn’t working all the time. What if he was out on patrol at night and something happened to her? But was the only option to move?

His annoyance, the pressure of owning so many expensive things and the feeling that he wasn’t really listened to didn’t let him rest, though. “You can’t buy me a car!” Tony looked like he wanted to protest, maybe deny it, but Peter didn’t let him. “Don’t try to deny it. Happy and May told me about it.”

In a defensive move, Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “Normal kids would be happy to get a car.”

“I don’t even have my license yet.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m saying you should drive it without getting your license first. Obviously, you should pass first, then you can drive around.”

Peter felt like he was talking against a wall. How was Pepper dealing with this? He took a deep breath, trying not to throw a tantrum and look like a little child. “I don’t need a car. I can just take the subway or swing around. Also, May told me about a bank account you made for me.”

“What, am I not allowed to give you allowance? And it’s not even _that_ much.” The billionaire rolled his eyes in a _don’t be dramatic_ way. Peter wanted to jump out of the bed, get back at the same level as him to help him argue, but he knew it was pointless. Tony would just usher him back again, claiming he still needed his rest. Not that arguing was really the perfect definition of getting rest.

“Not that much for billionaire standards or for normal people standards?” Tony hesitated, which was the only answer Peter needed. “I didn’t do anything to earn it and I don’t want it.”

“Why can’t you just accept it?” he asked, slowly loosing his patience.

But he wasn’t the only one.

“Because it feels like you’re paying me to hang out with you!” Peter got louder than he anticipated and didn’t just surprise himself with it, but Tony as well. The man was looking at him weirdly, as if he couldn’t understand the meaning of his words. “I come over here because I like spending time with you. But when you keep giving me such expensive stuff … I don’t know, it feels like a bribe. Like a job, maybe. And that’s not what this is. Not for me, at least.”

He surprised himself by not breaking eye contact. Instead, he held his own, staring Tony down and seeing his walls slowly crumble down. The little wrinkle between his eyebrows disappeared first, followed by the confused look in his eyes, that was replaced with something softer. Tension left his shoulders together with a breath that escaped his mouth. Peter was still baffled that he, apparently, won against Tony Stark, _Iron Man_ , that he could only blink when the man sat back down on the bed.

Tony didn’t start speaking immediately. For a second, he buried his face in his hands, taking a few deep breaths before looking back at him. Suddenly, he looked a lot more tired than Peter had ever seen him. “I’m not trying to bribe you. And I don’t think that you’re hanging out with me because of the gifts I’m trying to give you. It’s, of course, to brag to your classmates that you’re friends with a celebrity.”

Peter snorted and the corners of Tony’s mouth pulled upwards for a second, before they dropped again. He sniffed, cleared his throat once and gave all his attention to him. “It’s not a surprise that I’m very bad at talking about my emotions. I mean, just look at the conversation we’re currently having. I’m not good at telling people that I care about them, so I do the only thing I know. Throwing money at them. And it’s always been what people expect of me, spending money because I have it, so it works. Of course, I had to learn when people took advantage of it, but I figured it out. Got pretty good at it, too, but Pepper would say otherwise. I think she’s still not over the bunny.”

“What bunny?”

Tony just waved his hand dismissively. “Long story. Anyway, I thought I had it all figured out, until you showed up. Because you don’t accept the things I want to give you. You want to be an Avenger, I offer you a spot, and you decline. Which was the right decision, don’t sweat it, I’m very proud of you because of it. You complain about the subway because there’re too many people and it takes so long to get from your place to the Tower, I’m buying you a car, and you don’t want it. You’re rambling about saving money to buy new Lego sets, I give you enough money to buy all the Lego you want, and you don’t use it.” He sighed deeply, looking kind of beaten down. “I’m not trying to bribe you or anything. I’m just trying to show you that I care. And you rejecting everything makes me think that I don’t know you as well as I thought and that frustrated me. So, I just keep trying until there’s something you actually accept. Which was obviously the wrong strategy.”

Something pulled at Peter’s heart strings and he had to look down. The anger that had bubbled inside him died down. He didn’t mean to make Tony feel this way by rejecting his gifts. Tony always gave – or tried to give – him things in such a casual, almost indifferent way that Peter never realized they were proving that Tony listened to his endless ramblings every day. That it was his way of showing affection. Peter felt like an idiot. Who claimed that he was a genius? They had to be wrong. A genius would’ve figured this out, not insult him.

However, he also just didn’t care that much about the gifts. Well, it was nice to get presents sometimes, but their substantial value wasn’t what Peter cherished. And he had the urge to explain it to Tony, to make him understand what he cared about. “It’s not like I don’t appreciate you wanting to give me everything I want, but – … I don’t know how to say this properly, but I care more about the memories than the stuff.” _Because people leave and things get broken, but memories stay._ “Like, when I was eight or something, Ben got me a dinosaur jigsaw puzzle because I did really good in school and I was crazy about dinosaurs back then and –“

“What’s your favorite dinosaur?”

“Triceratops, of course, but that’s not the point!” Tony was fighting a smile and Peter – unsuccessfully – fought the heat gathering in his cheeks. “The point is that we spend the whole afternoon doing the puzzle and couldn’t find the last piece. Looked all over the apartment, turned over everything, until we finally found it. Now, whenever I think about dinosaurs, I think about Ben and me almost destroying our living room, trying to come up with the wildest speculation where the final piece could be, May laughing when she saw the mess and finally finding that one piece. And that’s way more worth than whatever the puzzle had cost.”

Silence stretched between them. Peter was anxiously fiddling with the blanket, getting nervous because the man didn’t say anything, just kept staring at the box with the things he built for him. Did he explain it the wrong way? Or was the concept so strange that a genius like Tony Stark couldn’t grasp it? Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything and just accepted the gifts.

“Okay,” Tony finally said, still somewhat lost in thought. “Okay, I get what you’re saying. I’m just … trying to process and figuring out what to do.” Peter had the urge to say something, maybe to take everything back he just said, but no words came out of his mouth. After a few more seconds of pondering, his father got his thoughts in order. “How about this: I planned to get you one of those fancy cameras for your birthday, so you could get back to photography, if you feel like it.”

Confused – because Peter never told him about his old hobby – he asked: “Did Karen tell you?”

“What? No, I found your Instagram account and asked May about some of the scenic pictures.”

“You found my _what_?!” Panic was rising in him and his fingers itched to grab his phone. Did he actually upload the photo of his Iron Man Halloween costume from two years ago or did he just send it to Ned? What about all the other embarrassing photos he’d posted just for fun because he barely had any followers? Oh no, the photo of his Lego Avengers collection that he had successfully hid from Tony until now!

Tony didn’t seem to think that it was a reason to panic – it _totally_ was – and just scoffed. “You honestly thought I wouldn’t find it? Kid, look who you’re talking to.” Point taken. “Anyway, I know good cameras are expensive, which you won’t like, so how about we build one together?” Peter couldn’t do anything, but blink and stare at Tony who, in turn, started rambling. “I mean, I never built one before, so it might take a little bit longer, but us two geniuses should be able to figure it out. And I could teach you a bit about what to look out for if you build something for SI, give you an idea what my job is actually like. If it turns out good enough, we could pitch it to the board, and if they give their okay, you get some of the profit.”

“But I don’t –“

“ _Please_ , just accept some money, okay? It’ll give me some peace of mind to know that, should something ever happen to May or me or if you’re ever in a situation where you need money, you’ll have it. Think of it as a safety cushion.” Tony looked so tired and a bit worried, that Peter just nodded. “And if you help develop the camera, it’s basically just payment for your work.”

Well, that thought was more acceptable than just getting so much money without doing any work. “What about the other money?”

The superhero shrugged. “It’s yours, do with it whatever you want. Donate it to charity, pay for your friends college tuition –“

“It’s _that_ much?”

“Doesn’t matter”, he said in a way that was clearly meant to end the conversation. Just thinking about finding out how much money exactly was on that bank account made Peter dizzy. “So, what do you say? Does it sound like something you could enjoy?”

He didn’t even need to think a second about it. The warm feeling inside his chest was enough. “That’s … I would love that, actually, yeah.”

For a moment, Tony just smiled at him, obviously relieved that he accepted his idea. But then he sighed deeply, averting his eyes. “I’ll sell the car. I wasn’t sure about the color, anyway.” He sounded way more defeated than the boy liked to hear. It left a bitter taste on his tongue and he wanted to fix it.

The idea that Happy had planted inside his brain and that hadn’t left him alone since then popped up. “What if, and you can totally say no, it’s fine, I know you’re busy and everything, and it’s probably stupid anyway and –“

“Pete, just spit it out. I can’t reject you until you actually tell me what you want.”

“Right, uhm … well, it’s not really _my_ idea, but I don’t hate it and … it’s just that I don’t even have my driver’s license and May’s kinda busy with work, so she can’t really teach me, and … maybe you could?” Peter didn’t get an answer – at least not a verbal one. Tony just kept staring at him, which got kind of creepy after a few seconds. So, naturally, he backtracked. “It’s – It’s stupid, just forget I asked. I mean, I don’t even know why I asked because you’re _so_ busy, like, _really_ busy and don’t have time for something boring like that. But maybe Happy could give me a few lessons? He’s been going on and on about me getting my license so he doesn’t have to drive me around anymore, which, y’know, would only help if I actually have a car, which I don’t, and I’m not asking for one, but –“

Tony raised a hand, a signal for him to stop. “Okay, I was trying to wait and see if you actually notice yourself that you’re talking nonsense, but I would’ve to wait until next week, and I just don’t have the time for that.” Peter’s face heated up and he shut his mouth, before he could start rambling again. “Of course I’ll teach you how to drive. Are you kidding me? Why wouldn’t I want that?”

The teenager simply shrugged, suddenly feeling stupid again. “You’ve got so much stuff to do.”

Tony just waved it off as if the day didn’t just have 24 hours and he wasn’t working 22 of them. “I’ll make time for it. That’s one of the benefits if you’re your own boss.”

“I thought Pepper is the boss.”

“Yeah, she likes to think that, but it’s not true.”

“ _Actually_ –“

“I don’t wanna hear it, FRIDAY.” Peter couldn’t help but snicker. “Besides, she’s always going on and on about me spending too much time in the workshop. She’ll be on board.”

“Awesome,” he breathed before he could stop himself, because he was actually thrilled that he wouldn’t only get to practice more but get lessons from Iron Man himself. Tony looked like he wanted to say something, probably something smug, but Peter continued. There was one issue he couldn’t let go. “So, about the apartment.”

“It’s not safe,” Tony sighed, getting a steely look in his eyes, “and I want you two to be safe.”

“But what if we fix the locks? And, maybe, get some for the windows? You could choose them, if you want to. You probably know more about them than we do, anyway.”

He was looking at Peter with narrowed eyes, thoughts racing behind them a hundred miles a minute. Peter was sitting on his bed, anxiously waiting for the answer. He could understand Tony’s need to keep them safe and he didn’t want to just ignore it. After all, he couldn’t go around, demanding they make decisions together and then ignoring everything he says. But he also didn’t want to move. There were so many memories in those few rooms and it was _home_. Finally, Tony made a decision. “Make it a security system that I’ll build and we have a deal.”

Peter grimaced. “A security system? Isn’t that a bit much?”

“Not at all. It’s the minimum I’m comfortable with and you won’t get another deal. And just to let you know: I’m seriously thinking about buying that building and doing the renovations and updates myself if May keeps rejecting me.” The look in his eyes was enough for Peter to know that the billionaire was completely serious. This was about compromising and doing something both were comfortable with.

Also, he really couldn’t imagine what Tony would be like as a landlord and he didn’t know if he wanted to know.

“Fine, okay. A security system, but we don’t have to move.”

“Deal.” As if to make it official, they shook hands. It felt somewhat silly, but Peter couldn’t help but smile at it. Tony himself gave him a proud, wide smile. “Look at us! Talking about our issues and making compromises like real adults. FRIDAY, save the footage. I want to show it to Pepper whenever she says I’m being immature again.”

“ _I will save it in the_ To Prove Pepper Wrong _folder, Boss._ ”

Peter cocked his head to the side. “How many files are in there?”

_“It is the first files, Mr. Parker.”_

He raised an eyebrow, but Tony just rolled his eyes. “That means nothing. I just created that folder.”

_“The folder was created on –“_

“FRIDAY, seriously, can it or I’ll dismantle all your speakers.” The silence that followed felt like an eye roll, but Tony, of course, didn’t dwell on it. “C’mon, next question. I think we’re on a roll here.”

There was only one question left to ask. Peter’s heart was pounding against his ribs, he was absentmindedly fiddling with the blanket again and, no matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn’t look Tony in the eyes. In a small voice, barely audible, he asked: “Do you hate it if I call you Dad?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Even without looking at him, Peter could tell he was tensing up again. “Why do you think that?”

“You thought I was hallucinating. And I heard you when I said it. You couldn’t breath and your heart stopped beating. It wasn’t really a … positive reaction.”

“I can hide nothing from you, can I?” He gave him a weak smile that wasn’t reaching his eyes. Peter didn’t answer, just shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. But it was. Because, somehow, the thought that Tony didn’t want him to call him Dad – by accident or not – hurt a lot more than he had anticipated. “I just … didn’t expect to hear that word. And when I did, I was convinced that it wasn’t me, because – well, you know what I think about myself and fatherhood. I didn’t, and I still don’t, think I deserve that title.”

“But you do.”

Tony sighed: “Pete, you don’t –”

He didn’t let him finish. Instead, Peter looked up, directly into his eyes, and tried his best to emphasize his words. “I’m serious. You do anything any other dad would do. You deserve that title.”

“I wasn’t there,” he said in a voice that sounded almost broken.

“Richard isn’t here anymore and I still call him Dad.” Tony just blinked and Peter took this rare chance to keep going. “When I asked you to stay, I said Dad because I wanted a dad. Someone who looks after me and I feel safe with. You fit into that. Perfectly. And I know this is all pretty new and you think you made too many mistakes or whatever, but you’re here _now_ and that’s enough for me.”

Peter had been pretty confident when he made his little speech, but with every passing second in which Tony just kept silent, he grew more and more nervous. Maybe he overstepped a boundary. Maybe this was too much too fast. Maybe he should’ve been more considerate of Tony’s need to not talk about it. But then the man sniffed once and let out a hoarse laugh. “Geez, kid, stop or you’re going to make me cry”, he joked, but Peter could clearly see the wetness in his eyes.

A smile pulled at his lips, and just to make sure – because that hadn’t really been an answer –, he asked: “So will you always freak out if I accidently call you Dad?”

“Nah, I think it’ll be something I’ll get used to. Probably.” Tony winked and Peter couldn’t help but chuckle at his light tone. “Will you freak out if I call you my son?”

He actually considered the question for a second, before lightly shaking his head. “Maybe the first time. It’s been a while since anyone called me that, but I think I would actually like that.”

“Come here,” Tony said and pulled him in for a hug. Peter put his arms around him, a heavy weight lifted of his chest and a smile tucking on his lips. They stayed like that for a moment, just cherishing the moment. Eventually, his father leaned back again, but his hands stayed on Peter’s shoulders. “Any more questions?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Alright. But you can always talk to me, you know that, right? If any more questions come popping up, just ask me and don’t keep them in.” Peter just nodded, not trusting his voice to be quite strong enough right now. “And I will try to buy you less stuff. Unless it’s for school, because I got explicit approval from May to buy those things.”

“I’ll try to accept more of your gifts. As long as they’re not too expensive.” He had a feeling they should talk about what exactly expensive was, but that could wait until later. Now that all the adrenalin and anxiety was gone, the tiredness took over again, making his eyelids heavy and he had to force back a yawn.

Tony, of course, noticed it. With a soft smile, he gave his shoulder a little squeeze. “You should probably try to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, school won’t be fun if I fall asleep every five seconds.”

“Oh no, you’re not going to school tomorrow. And don’t even try to argue, Aunt Hottie is with me on this!” Peter deflated, his argument dying on his tongue. He couldn’t win if May and Tony agreed on something. “For one, you don’t look well enough to go back, and also Helen is coming over to have a look at the pills and examine you.”

“Helen?” It was the second time Tony mentioned her.

“Dr. Helen Cho.”

All the tiredness was forgotten again. His eyes grew as big as saucers. “You know Dr. Cho?!”

“And you’ll meet her tomorrow. So, rest up to be your usual chipper, hyperactive self.”

“How can I sleep when I’m meeting _Dr. Cho_ in a few hours?!” This was crazy. He was meeting _Dr. Helen Cho_ , one of the most brilliant scientists alive! How was this his life?

“FRIDAY, activate the Lullaby Protocol once I left,” Tony ordered as he stood up, taking the water and the empty tray with him. Peter couldn’t say anything about it, already putting together an outfit in his mind for tomorrow. He couldn’t just wear _any_ T-shirt with a science pun on it. It had to be the right one. “Sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs bite. I’m serious about it. With your luck, they might be radioactive, too. You already have enough bug-like superpowers, you don’t need any more.”

“Spiders aren’t bugs,” Peter corrected, almost like as an afterthought.

“Nerd,” Tony snorted in a somewhat affectionate way – if there was something like that. He was already halfway out of the door, his hand still on the knob. “But, seriously, get some rest. You look like you need it.”

“Thanks,” he replied sarcastically, already closing his eyes. He could hear Tony huff amusingly, and out of an urge that came from the happy, giddy feeling in his chest, Peter added: “Good night, Dad.”

He could hear a falter in steps. A heart stopping before beating twice as fast. A breath that was let go. “Good night, son.” A smile in his voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at these idiots talking about their issues like grown-ups! 
> 
> I do plan on continuing this series and I have a few ideas/tropes I want to write, but please let me know if there is something you would like to read! You can either leave a comment here or send me a message on [tumblr](https://jen27ny.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> I also have a [tumblr](https://jen27ny.tumblr.com/) if you want to talk to me!


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